


Through Mist, Madness and Pain

by deandeandean



Series: Through Mist and Madness Series [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, BAMF Dean Winchester, Bottom Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Bears the Mark of Cain, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Demon Deals, Domestic Violence, Drugged Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Flashbacks, Forced Orgasm, Forced prostitution (mentioned), Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Incest, Jealous Castiel (Supernatural), Jealous Dean Winchester, Jealous Sam Winchester, M/M, Misunderstandings, More bad things happen to Dean, More like himself., Pining Dean Winchester, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sam is no longer angry., Sexual Violence, Spoilers all seasons, Suicidal Thoughts, Think season 10 Sam., Torture, Violence, childhood sexual abuse (past), forced incest (past), seriously heavy angst, slow burn destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2020-01-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:20:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 34
Words: 77,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21609700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandeandean/pseuds/deandeandean
Summary: This is part two of Through Mist and Madness Series.Dean is six months into his deal with Crowley while old enemies plot against him.  Once again faced with betrayal and tormented by a mysterious being, Dean tries to find his way back to his brother and angel, but a deep dark secret threatens to break them apart again.  Sorry, I still suck at summaries.  Long fic but not as long as the first one.Note:  You don't necessarily have to read the first one although there will be references to it so it might possibly be confusing.  I will put summaries on chapters that mention the first story.Underage tag is in references to past abuse only.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Crowley, Dean Winchester/John Winchester, Dean Winchester/Supernatural Characters
Series: Through Mist and Madness Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1224620
Comments: 49
Kudos: 119





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, I finally have the second part ready to go. I'm sorry its been over a year. It started as a way to fix the relationships between Dean, Sam and Cas and turned into this long fic, but I believe everyone will be happy with how it works out. However, along the way there will be loads of angst, misunderstandings and Dean will suffer emotionally and physically.
> 
> The entire story was beta'd by AnotherWorld3111 who is so incredibly talented and helped me get over some humps and dealt with my messy drafts with ease. Check out her stories here on AO3, they are amazing. I cannot thank her enough for all her help. 
> 
> Please read the tags as right off the bat we have triggering content as Dean has nightmares about past abuse. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy this. Kudos and comments make my day.
> 
> As a reminder Dean made a deal with Crowley to serve him for a year in exchange for help rescuing Sam and Cas from the vampire Kate. Dean created a band to help him control the Mark. Three months into his deal Dean rescued Cas from other angels who were going to kill him forcing more grace into Cas as he was almost empty. He hasn't seen Sam or Cas since.

Dean gasped in pain as sharp nails ran down his chest, drawing blood in oozing lines. One sharp nail pierced his nipple, causing him to moan in pain. Dean thrashed against the chains holding him to the bed, wanting to be anywhere but here, wanting to feel nothing instead of this hot tight heat around his cock as Kate slammed herself up and down. Dean’s mind screamed, all his control taken from him as the pill forced down his throat caused his body to betray him. 

Kate’s smirking face morphed into a beautiful red headed demon, smiling up at Dean as he thrust into her. Dean smiled back, his mind screaming kill, kill, kill while his eyes and mouth smiled seductively. Keeping up the act was so hard when Dean was filled with hate as the pain from all the torture ran through his mind, even as he kissed her jaw. He bit gently at her nipple making her cry out in pleasure, the screams of the demons he tortured, the horror of his mind being manipulated flooding his body. Abby screamed as she came and Dean quickly followed, her clenching pushing him over the edge. 

His mind screamed no, but his body betrayed him as cum splashed across his stomach. A thick pulsing cock slammed into him from behind, Alastair’s nasally laugh ringing in his ear. “See you want it pet. You’re just a slut, a whore, a hole. You belong to me, only me.”

“No I don’t, I don’t want this, I don’t want you!” Dean screamed as Alastair played with the body he knew so well, the one he carved into a new animal. 

“I don’t want this. Please dad, stop, please stop, please stop.” A teenage Dean screamed into the pillow as John roughly fucked him, uncaring of the pain he caused, laughing at Dean’s tears. His large hand crushed the thin bones of Dean’s wrists he held at the small of Dean’s back. 

Dean thrashed in his bed as the nightmares forced him to relive the horrors. He whimpered in pain when a dark shadow knelt on the bed. 

“Hush,” the voice whispered. “I’ll take the pain away Dean, my beautiful hunter. Just relax.”

Dean looked up. The owner of the voice was big, so big that all six feet and 2 inches of Dean felt small and vulnerable. His large hands smoothed over Dean’s skin, cooling the fire, erasing the pain. 

“See, I’ll make it all better Dean.” He was faceless, with long dark hair, and yet Dean knew he was smiling as he tenderly kissed Dean. Sweetness flooded Dean’s mouth, Dean’s skin tingling as the man murmured sweet nothings, Dean arching into his warmth. The images and pain from his memories were melting away. And as the man pushed inside and started with slow thrusts Dean moaned in pleasure as his prostate was hit right away. A large hand wrapped around his cock and stroked and twisted. 

“Who are you?” Dean asked, breathless with pleasure.

“You’ll remember me soon, my beautiful hunter. For now, let me just take the pain away.” He whispered, kissing Dean as they both orgasmed simultaneously. 

_“Soon Dean, soon. I have missed you so,” _“ The voice echoed faintly as Dean watched the man fade into the shadows and disappear.__

Dean jerked awake.

“A wet dream? Really, Squirrel, aren’t you a little old for that.” Crowley chuckled, turning to look at Dean when he flopped back down on the bed, his mind still caught up in his nightmare/dream.

Dean felt Crowley hand run down his chest, his arm resting around his waist. “Are you okay?” Crowley asked peering down at Dean with an eyebrow raised.

Yeah, weird dream. Really weird dream.” Dean said shuttering at the memories of the nightmares and a feeling of _“wrong, wrong, wrong” _slithering through him now as he remembered the man. The pleasure Dean felt in the dream turned into something sickening. It was as if he lost himself after the kiss, the sweetness. It made Dean feel vulnerable and wrong. But it was only a dream, Dean reasoned, and pushed the feelings and images down. He smiled up at Crowley.__

__"It’s nothing. Really.” Dean said. Crowley hummed his acquiescence, his hand stroking Dean’s face and brushing across his lips._ _

____

“You’re so beautiful, Squirrel.” Dean froze.

____

_“ “My beautiful hunter….”_

______ _ _

Dean shivered but pushed it away again, this time with more force.

______ _ _

“So. What’s going on today?” Dean asked, only half listening as Crowley rattled off his schedule. Pleased that Crowley didn’t need Dean for anything today, he planned to go check out a possible rugaru a few hours away. It had been six months since Dean’s deal with Crowley, and so far things have been okay. Dean did hate a lot of things — but they were just minor annoyances. He hated wearing the leather pants and tight shirts, but Crowley was insistent on that. Still, Crowley let Dean stay in the beach house and Dean only went to hell when he was needed for something; a meeting, a judgment, or a challenge. So Dean could compromise on the smaller stuff. 

______ _ _

Dean wished he could say he was happy, but that would be a lie. Yeah, Crowley was decent. Surprisingly he had even waited a little over a month before they had finally had sex. Crowley had continued along the same lines as he had been prior to the rescue and deal, with kisses and strokes and easing into things. Dean was pleasantly surprised and grateful that Crowley would lose that time out of the year, but when Dean asked Crowley about it Crowley would get a weird look on his face and then just dismiss it with a wave.

______ _ _

Sex with Crowley was great. Pretty mind blowing at times, but while Dean liked Crowley and cared about him, he didn’t love him, not the way he loved Ca—nope. Not thinking about him. That ship sunk in the harbor before even setting sail. Although, Dean missed him terribly, especially after seeing him three months ago. Hell, Dean missed Sam too. Sure, they’ve been apart for longer in the past, but never had it been at Dean’s choice, so this? This was a whole lot harder. At least Crowley kept tabs on Sam and let Dean know what he was doing.

______ _ _

And thinking of Sam… Dean was actually really surprised to find out that Sam was still at the bunker. He figured Sam would’ve booked it to Texas and try to find Amelia as soon as possible again, or even try to find that apple pie life anew, but nope, Sam was still there.

______ _ _

Dean hated to admit it, even to himself, but he was having a hard time coping with everything. When he had left the bunker, he’d been trying with all he had to control the Mark and find Abaddon, and it was easier to push away everything that happened in the process. Now, though, Dean had control of the Mark and while he was still hunting down Gadreel and Metatron he had more downtime, and that single minded purpose of not losing control was gone. Now all Dean had were memories and emotions he was fighting to keep locked away.

______ _ _

Dean cursed again thinking about Gadreel. Dean had had the angel trapped and was gearing himself up to call Sam and Cas, because it was only fair to let them in on it — and yeah, if it was a roundabout way for Dean to actually see them, well, sue him. But somehow Gadreel escaped before Dean could even make the call. Dean wasn’t sure what he was more angry about, missing out on seeing Sam and Cas or Gadreel escaping.

______ _ _

Well. Dean caught him once. And he would again.

______ _ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the start of the story. There is nothing triggering in this part, just some nightmares but nothing specific.

Dean had been sitting on the porch staring at the ocean, his mind lost in thoughts of what ifs, what haves and what the fuck because the dream guy had appeared a couple more times, and Dean was feeling more and more threatened. Crowley swore there was no demon or succubus/incubus hanging around Dean so it must have just been his imagination, but there was something just so familiar about the man. He was bigger than Dean in height and width, had long hair, and Dean was now able to see shadows of high cheekbones and deep set eyes, but that was all. Power still radiated from his hands though, and his kisses were sweet like honey and candy. 

Crowley stood in the doorway watching Dean stare at the waves, lost in thought, his face a mask of pain. Dean tried to hide it but Crowley knew he was unhappy. Yes, Dean did most of what Crowley asked of him, with lots of arguments and snark along the way because of course, this was Dean Winchester. And he could tell Dean really enjoyed their bedroom activities but Dean was still broken. Crowley wondered if letting Dean become a demon wouldn’t have been a better idea as all the hurt, guilt, and pain would have gone away, but Crowley still couldn’t let go of what made Dean… Dean. 

“Squirrel.” He called out. Dean’s gaze snapped to him, his face flushing a charming shade of pink at being caught unawares. Crowley immediately felt his pants tighten. He said it before many times and Crowley will say it again without any difficulty, but bloody hell that boy was delectable. Crowley walked over and sat down next to Dean. 

“What’s wrong?” Crowley asked, but Dean just shook his head. 

“Nothing. M’fine.” Dean said predictably. 

Crowley let it go for now but tugged Dean down, Dean gracefully falling to his knees in front of Crowley. He forgot all about everything while Dean put those sinful lips to use, and Crowley refused to think about the fact that when those gorgeous green orbs looked up at Crowley there was a deep abscess of sadness looking back at him before Dean shielded himself. 

\----------------------------------  
Crowley jerked in surprise at the scream, and liquor splashed across the scroll he was reading. Cursing, Crowley turned as Dean jerked upright in bed, panting, eyes wide with fear and confusion. 

Another nightmare. 

Crowley and Dean hadn’t been able to figure out what was happening. As far as Crowley could tell, there was no demon attacking Dean or any other monster that he knew of. Crowley tripled the wards on the house, yet still, without fail, every couple of nights Dean was bolting upright from a nightmare. 

Crowley rubbed Dean’s back as Dean’s breathing calmed down. At a raised eyebrow in question, Dean just shook his head. “I don’t know,” was all he said in a whisper. 

“Maybe you need something to focus on.” Crowley said. “There have been a bunch of demons getting killed and I need you to look into it for me and take care of the problem.”

“I don’t actually think that is a problem,” Dean said with a smirk, but Crowley was not amused. No, he was aggravated. He had lost over thirty demons in the last month alone, and frankly, it was getting ridiculous. If he didn't figure out what was happening he would look weak. 

“Dean.” Crowley said, his voice thick with warning.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I’ll take care of it.” Dean said. “Not like I have a choice.” Dean muttered under his breath. Crowley just huffed in annoyance, having heard him loud and clear but choosing to ignore it. 

Crowley’s annoyance turned to pleasure —with a healthy dose of worry — when Dean uncharacteristically turned and laid his head on Crowley’s chest and cuddled up against him. Dean was tense for a minute or two, clearly waiting to be mocked or pushed away. Instead, Crowley just shifted into a more comfortable position and started running his hand through Dean’s hair.  
Dean sighed and sunk into the embrace, his shaking finally stopping. After a long pause, Dean looked up at him through his long lashes, his voice soft. “How’s this going to work when my year is up, Crowley?” 

Crowley turned his face to the side to hide the guilty look that flashed across it before it could stop it. He just hummed a noncommittal reply and continued stroking Dean’s hair until the hunter dropped back into sleep. 

Bloody hell.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi last chapter this week. I know the sizes of the chapters are all over the place but it just kinda worked out that way and I didn't want to split things just for the sake of keeping the chapters closer in size. 
> 
> As a reminder, Dean created a band from the sigils Abaddon used when she captured him to suppress the Mark's powers. He modified it so that he still had access to the powers but he had control, which he could increase by adding these twirly like sigils to the band when needed.
> 
> Hint: Sam and Cas will be up in the next couple of chapters.

Metatron sighed loudly in disgust as he read through the pages. These two were unbelievable. Their hero complex was beyond pathetic, and Dean — Dean. His protective instincts and damaged psyche were too much to handle sometimes, but Metatron needed information. So he pushed through the very real concern that his eyes might freeze in the midst of a perpetual eye roll and focused back on the pages.

Metatron had managed to get a hold of Chuck’s unpublished works which were current until just a year ago. He needed to find a way to get rid of Dean. Dean was becoming too big of a problem, getting in the way, capturing Gadreel, and it was just dumb luck that Metatron was able to rescue him in time. Metatron knew that killing Dean would only turn him into a full blown knight and he would then be a bigger threat. Dean was the only player left on the board that could cause Metatron problems when he followed through with his plan to take humanity. He wanted his name being prayed to, churches built to honor him, and everything else that went along with being the new god, but he had to get rid of Dean first for any of that to happen.

Until then… Metatron snickered at the antics of soulless Sam as he read the next book. Really, the boy was so much more interesting without his soul, pity that Dean, of course, against all odds, had managed to figure out a way to put it back. 

“—Wait a minute.” Metatron said aloud to himself as he flicked through the pages rapidly, going back and re-reading a section. “That doesn’t make sense, the timeline is all wrong… What could possibly have happened here?” Metatron wondered as he leaned back. A large smile crept across his face. Oh there was something here all right. And he just needed to find out what.  
____________________

The bar Dean entered was known to be a hangout for demons. The last two demon attacks had occurred at similar establishments and seemed to be going state to state in a straight line, so Dean felt confident that he would be able to catch up with whoever was killing the demons. It was ridiculous that Dean Winchester, renowned hunter, was protecting demons. But such was his life now. The only thing that made Dean feel a little better about it was that he had gotten Crowley to create a rule that demons were only allowed to possess dead meat suits, so at least Dean felt a little better that no more humans would have to go through the horror of being possessed. 

Dean was feeling weird. Ever since his cuddling the other night — and geez Dean cannot believe he reached out to Crowley like that but now — Crowley had been acting weird. He was colder and more professional with Dean and it was throwing Dean off. Crowley was usually the affectionate one, always wanting some kind of contact. Figures, though. Dean had a reason for closing himself off and not allowing himself to count on people, especially when it came to his feelings. Yet once again he acted the fool and was now getting slapped back for it. 

Dean sighed as he ordered a bottle, hoping against hope that he would be able to get a little bit drunk from it at the least. Even with the Mark suppressed and controlled, it still affected Dean to some extent. Such as right now, his unfortunately increased tolerance to alcohol meant that he needed a worryingly huge quantity just to feel it.

Needless to say, it was one of the more annoying side effects of the Mark.

Dean grabbed his bottle and walked over to a table in the corner, putting his back to the wall. He made eye contact with a table of six demons and smirked at the hostile looks he received. The demons had made their hatred of Dean no secret, and now that Crowley instigated the dead meat suit only rule it had gotten worse. Whatever, Dean thought, rolling his eyes as they started trash talking, speaking loud enough to make sure Dean heard them. 

Dean steadily worked his way through the bottle as the night went on, and the bar slowly emptied of all its human customers. The demons were now drunk enough to make a couple of them foolishly brave enough to approach Dean.

“Hey, Winchester bitch,” one demon drawled. Dean just looked at him coldly. “So is it true that you can't kill us? Wasn't that part of the deal you made, no live meat suits in exchange for you not killing us?” The demon smirked, taking Dean's silence as an answer. 

Dean clenched his fists and took a deep breath, the Mark started to pulse on his arm. One demon from the table called over to his friend to back off and leave Dean alone. He seemed to be the only one who noticed the sharp gaze of hatred and promised violence that Dean was looking at the demon with.

The demon in front of Dean ignored his friend and proceeded to actually grab Dean, pulling him from his seat and slamming his back against the wall.

“You know, I really enjoyed possessing people. I liked hearing them scream and feeling their terror and confusion. You took that away from me.” The demon spat, pushing his face closer to Dean’s.

“Back off.” Dean warned lowly, pushing the demon back a couple of steps. 

“Or what?” The demon sneered. He waved a dismissive hand behind him as his friends started to call warnings to him. 

“Or this.” Dean said, calm and cold as he pulled his blade from behind his back and jammed it into the demon. 

Dean felt the small surge of power and satisfaction flow through him. The Mark was being controlled by the band of sigils but the bloodlust was still there, just muted. Dean still got immense pleasure when he fed the Mark's need for death. 

“What the fuck!” The other demon who had come to the table yelled. “You can't — you're not allowed!” He said, shocked and finally showing the fear he should have afforded Dean in the first place. 

“Oh well, my bad.” Dean said carelessly. He flung the demon's body away and stepped toward the other demon who pulled his own knife out. What a joke. It only took a few seconds before Dean had killed him too. 

“Crowley is not gonna be happy with you, Winchester.” A demon at the table called, but he was starting to stand as well. Dean rolled his eyes, but before he could respond another voice called out.

“Nobody likes a tattle tale.” A deep voice said — and the demon exploded into gray dust. Dean's eyes jerked toward the new threat as the Mark pulsed so hard he thought it might break through the band. Dean's eyes met the icy blue eyes of Cain as he strode into the bar. He never broke eye contact with Dean as he grabbed two demons and tore them apart— literally. The last demon tried to smoke out but Cain, finally looking away from Dean, put a hand into the smoke and jammed it right back into its meat suit. Dean cringed as Cain cut and hacked at the demon. 

Clearly radiating satisfaction from his kills, Cain turned to look at Dean.

“Hello, Dean.” Cain said conversationally. Like he hadn't just slaughtered four demons in front of Dean.  
“Here to follow through on your promise?” Cain asked, hiking a brow in question and leaning nonchalantly against the wall. Dean could see the Mark on Cain's arm pulsing and burning, just as red as the one on Dean's. 

Dean’s heart rate increased, adrenaline flooding his body as the Mark screamed in response to Cain being in the same room as him. But under the weight of that piercing, ice blue state, Dean tried to appear calm and collected. This could be it. This could be the day Dean dies, and dies for good if Cain gets a hold of the blade. Dean actually felt some relief sweep through him at the thought. His pain and suffering would be over. The unbearable loneliness of his existence finally over. The world finally free of the stain that was Dean Winchester. And while Dean was okay with that… he still felt the need to fight. 

“So you’re killing again?” Dean asked, cursing as his voice shook slightly. Of course Cain picked up on it though. He smirked.

“What can I say? I got the taste again.” Cain said. He straightened up and took a few steps closer to Dean. “Good job with Abaddon. A bit of a strange way to kill her though,” Cain said and actually chuckled as Dean’s face flamed red in embarrassment and shame. Dean couldn’t imagine what Cain thought of the fact that he deemed Dean worthy of bearing the Mark, and Dean had to kill Abaddon while having sex with her. 

Dean met Cain’s gaze, and for the briefest of moments he thought he saw compassion and a little pride, before it was replaced with coldness.

Not knowing how to respond, Dean just shrugged and stepped forward until the two of them were circling the room, watching each other with eagle sharp eyes.

“Only demons?” Dean asked.

“For now.” Cain responded.

“I’m sorry.” Dean said. And he meant it. It was his fault, as with everything else, that Cain picked up a knife again and felt the bloodlust after centuries of it being controlled. 

Cain just grunted in reply, but Dean saw the flash of a small smile. 

“Can you stop?” Dean asked, sincerely. He was filled with genuine disappointment when Cain shook his head. 

“Do you want to?” Dean tried again. He didn’t really understand why, but... he really, really, didn’t want to have to kill Cain. 

Cain looked surprised at the question and stopped moving, his stare even more focused now on Dean. “How are you still human?” Cain asked suspiciously, looking up and down Dean’s body. He paused when his gaze fell on the band. “And so in control?”

Dean just shrugged, not wanting to give anything away yet until he got a better read on Cain. Still, Dean pushed slightly against the small bulge in his pocket. 

At Dean’s silence, Cain pulled out a large knife. Dean mirrored the action by bringing out the First Blade. An overwhelming feeling of possessiveness swept through Dean as Cain’s gaze locked on the blade.

_Mine. ___

__Dean gripping the blade tighter._ _

__“So nice of you to bring her back to me.” Cain smirked, stepping closer. His body tensed in preparation for the fight they knew was going to occur._ _

__“Not gonna happen.” Dean growled, and just like that they attacked. To an onlooker, it would have been a strange sight as the two men mirrored each others movements for a good five minutes or so until Cain tired of the cat and mouse game waved a finger and Dean flew across the room, crashing into the wall._ _

__Dean quickly rolled to his feet and advanced, but was still hesitant to bring his blade up and against Cain. He was primarily using it to block the oncoming blows until Cain snarled at him angrily._ _

__“You’re holding back!” It was followed by a vicious punch to Dean’s jaw that again had Dean flying across the room._ _

__Dean huffed in pain and rolled to his feet, a little slower than before with the beating his body was taking. Meanwhile, Cain didn’t even look the least bit harmed._ _

__Once again they met in the middle and grappled for the Blade, both falling to the floor and skidding a few feet while the blade flew through the air and landed on the other side of the room. They were in a perfect triangle, the blade the point and Cain and Dean at the base, only six feet apart._ _

__Cain and Dean locked eyes and each shot an arm out simultaneously. The blade raised up in the air but hovered, turning slightly toward Cain and then slightly toward Dean. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, with a whoosh Dean felt the blade connect with his hand._ _

__His eyebrows raised in disbelief._ _

__The blade had chosen Dean over Cain._ _

__Dean’s eyes locked with Cain’s, twin gazes wide with shock staring at each other. “I guess the blade made its choice.” Cain said, a bit of wonder filtering through his pain filled statement._ _

__Dean tensed, waiting for the next attack, but then to his surprise Cain threw back his head and laughed. “I knew you were worthy.” Cain said when he calmed down, the murderous bloodlust temporarily gone from his eyes. “Although, I admit I’m surprised.” Cain said and shrugged._ _

__Cain got to his feet and reached a hand out to Dean. Dean warily grabbed the offered hand and felt himself pulled to his feet._ _

__“Go ahead.” Cain said at Dean’s continued stillness. “I won’t fight you. You won.” And Cain gracefully fell to his knees, his gaze still locked with Dean’s._ _

__Dean squeezed his forearm, trying to calm down the Mark. He made a mental note to put another twirl or two on the band because the power of the Mark has become much more powerful. In the back of Dean’s mind he took note of the fact that over the last two months alone he has had to add more twirls. And that wasn’t the slightest bit concerning at all._ _

__Dean looked down at Cain and flinched as the Mark gave out a particularly strong pulse. It was practically screaming at him to kill him, kill him, kill him. Dean held out his arm, the same way Cain had done to Dean. With a confused look, Cain took Dean’s hand and Dean pulled him up._ _

__Dean gestured to a table, grabbing a bottle and two glasses from the bar. He filled both glasses to the brim, pushing one at Cain. They both took a sip as Cain leaned back in his chair, his regal eyebrow raised in question._ _

__“If you no longer had the urge to kill, would you still want to die?” Dean asked, watching Cain closely._ _

__Cain considered Dean for a minute, his gaze flickering to the band again. “Is that even possible?” Cain finally asked._ _

__“For the most part.” Dean answered, still being vague until he had his answer._ _

__“Then I think I would like to live. I was happy with my bees and my quaint little home. I might…” Cain started but caught himself and stopped._ _

__“You might what?” Dean asked. By the soft look that ran across Cain’s face, Dean thought he knew and was pleasantly surprised by it._ _

__Cain smiled a shy smile, which seemed out of place on such a forceful presence. “I think I might like to find love again.” Cain admitted._ _

__Dean smiled wide at the response and pulled the band out of his pocket. And Cain and Dean put their heads together as Dean explained all about the band and its sigils._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some violence and killing, but nothing graphic.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is punished by Crowley and has an unwelcome visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggering stuff in this chapter. See end notes.
> 
> Thank you for reading and leaving kudos.

After spending a couple of days with Cain helping him find the perfect balance between power and calm, Dean arrived back at the beach house exhausted. Cain had zapped him all over the world looking for monsters to test his newfound control on. Dean smiled at the memory because he had thoroughly enjoyed himself. It was nice to hunt with a partner even though Dean had to let Cain do all the killing, and for some reason he felt really connected to Cain. He had scoffed at Cain when he said that the day they met, but Dean saw it now, felt it now, and he was glad he could give Cain some peace. 

Dean took a long shower and exited the bathroom to find Crowley in the bedroom with a murderous look on his face. Oh shit.

“Hey.” Dean said calmly. He went to grab his clothes only to curse when they vanished. 

“What the hell Crowley?” Dean asked, starting to get nervous. 

“‘What the hell’ is the question Dean.” Crowley snarled. “I just had an interesting talk with a demon who was at the bar you went to.” Crowley said, walking over to a chair and taking a seat. 

“And?” Dean asked shifting uncomfortably clad only in a small towel. 

“‘And?’ And… Did we not have a deal, Dean, where I agreed to let demons only take dead meat suits and you were to lay off the demon killing?”

Dean cursed to himself. There must have been a demon there that he hadn’t noticed. 

“Yes, but…” Dean started to explain.

“No buts, Dean.” Crowley growled. “Do you have any idea how this looks to the masses. It’s bad enough I gave into your demand about the meat suits, but then you blatantly disrespect me and kill two demons.” Crowley stood up in his agitation and stalked over to Dean, pushing him back against the wall. 

“You said I could defend myself.” Dean added. He was starting get a little angry at being yelled at like a little kid. 

Crowley stared at Dean for a minute or two. “Okay. I’ll give you that one, Dean. However, I sincerely doubt you were in mortal danger. Let me ask you this? Is Cain dead?” Crowley snarled, wrapping a hand around Dean’s throat. 

Dean swallowed and looked away from the rage in Crowley’s eyes. Dean hadn’t seen Crowley look at him like this in a really long time. 

“Dean!” Crowley yelled, bringing Dean’s attention back to him.

“No, okay. He’s not.” Dean admitted. 

“Why the bloody hell is he still alive.” Crowley asked, squeezing his throat in a warning that Dean knew he better not lie.

“Because I didn’t want to kill him.” Dean yelled back anyway, trying and failing to push Crowley away. 

Dean then smirked and continued. “You told me to take care of the problem, and I took care of it… My King.” Dean snarled. His eyes widened as red crept into Crowley’s eyes from rage. 

Crowley released Dean’s throat and pulled the towel roughly away from Dean before crashing his mouth into his in a rough possessive kiss. Dean froze. This was the first time Crowley had touched him in anger. 

Crowley bit down harshly on Dean’s neck and at Dean’s gasp of pain Crowley froze and muttered something to himself. He stepped back and, with a strange look Dean couldn’t decipher on his face, Crowley snapped and Dean found himself in a stone room still naked. 

Dean blinked at the sudden change in location. The room was dimly lit but it was clear there were no doors and no windows. The roof was only about eight feet tall and the room, well, cell if Dean was honest with himself, about ten feet on each side. There was a twin sized bed pushed into the corner, a shower head and toilet in another corner with a Chinese folding screen in front, and a shelf stacked with bottled water, canned goods and non-perishables. 

“No!” Dean screamed. He scrambled along the walls trying to find a hidden trigger for some kind of door but there was nothing. He was completely encased in stone. 

“Crowley don’t do this.” Dean screamed again and proceeded to curse and scream to be let out, but to no avail. Eventually, exhaustion crept up on Dean and he laid down on the small bed with a thin blanket and fell asleep.   
___________  
Crowley cursed and proceeded to tear the room apart in his rage. He was horrified that he had touched Dean like that in anger and he was even more horrified that he was horrified about it. 

He was the fucking King of Hell. Dean should be hanging from chains, his back bloody from a whip, or sating Crowley’s rage in bed crying beneath him, but no. Crowley sends him on a timeout. He had to get Dean away from him before he lost control. 

This whole situation was becoming ridiculous and spiraling out of control. The demons beneath him started to see Crowley as weak, as Dean being the one in control because Crowley has allowed him so much freedom and had listened to him about certain things. Agreeing to that no live meatsuit was the final straw and Crowley knew there were factions being created right and left to try and de-thrown him. 

And now Dean was acting like a brat and outright defying Crowley. A big part of Crowley wanted to say fuck it and give up the throne, take Dean and go far away and just enjoy himself, but Crowley had worked for centuries to get where he was and he didn’t want to give it up. No one was more powerful than him except an archangel — though there were none of them left, Dean if he wasn’t bound by the deal, and of course, Cain. 

Crowley cursed yet again the fact Dean had let him live, while at the same time marveling at the irony of Dean Winchester once again protecting a demon. But jealousy was churning in Crowley’s gut at the admiration in Dean’s eyes when he had said Cain’s name. 

And now there was some mystery man molesting Dean in his sleep. Crowley still thought it was a figment of Dean’s imagination, but Dean wasn’t so sure. He had started to push the guy away and now the guy was becoming violent in the dreams. While it fit with Dean’s psyche and history, Crowley still felt like he was missing something.

Is there any creature out there that doesn’t want Dean for himself? 

Crowley even entertained the thought that Sam was up to something and considered paying him a visit… but he put that idea in his back pocket for now. Sam might not be happy with Dean at the moment, but to go so far as to terrorize him in his dreams? That was not bloody likely.   
___________

Dean spiraled between boredom, rage, blinding panic, and despair. He had no idea how long he had been here. The lights never changed and there was no clock or any way to tell how much time had passed. Dean tried to base it on how often he got hungry but with the Mark Dean could go days without eating so it really wasn’t a good indicator. 

Unfortunately, Crowley chose a time when Dean was amped up on rage to visit. He popped in and after chuckling at Dean’s failed attempt to punch him simply asked. “You have something to say?”

To which Dean replied “Fuck you!” And before Dean could take it back, Crowley disappeared. 

After another panic attack in which he had screamed himself hoarse yelling for Crowley, Dean sunk down onto the bed and fell into a fitful sleep.

Dean felt someone stroking his face and opened his eyes to the Dream guy. Dean jerked away and looked around widely. It took a few seconds before Dean realized he was still sleeping. 

“Who the fuck are you?” Dean asked for the hundredth time.

The guy just smiled at Dean and said the same damn frustrating answer. “You’ll remember me soon.” 

“I don’t want to remember you.” Dean growled out. “I want you gone and I never wanna see you again.” 

Dream guy just laughed and stood up. He strolled around the stone room, his face twisted in distaste. 

“This is disgusting.” He snarled. “I would never keep you in a hovel like this, my beautiful hunter. I would put you in…” Dean gasped as a golden cage flashed in his mind, the shadow of the Dream guy standing outside, looking in. 

“A golden cage.” Dean whispered.

Dream guy spun around quickly to look at Dean. “You remember?” He asked, his voice intense. 

“I uh, I don’t know. It was a flash.” Dean said. And then his mind caught up. He scowled. “Did that happen. Did you keep me in a fucking gold cage.” Dean demanded, stalking up to the Dream perv in anger. As Dean stepped close he again marveled at how much larger this guy was. He had to be about six feet eight inches or so, and his shoulders were broad, tapering down to a narrow waist and long muscular legs. If he weren’t harassing Dean in his dreams he was definitely someone Dean would look twice at. 

Dream guy must have picked up on a few of Dean’s thoughts because he grinned and stepped closer, right into Dean’s personal space. 

“Fuck you.” Dean said. He started back away but he quickly found his forearms held in a tight, bruising grip. 

“Watch your tone with me, Dean.” The man snarled, pushing Dean against the wall roughly. 

Dean’s eye widened but he kept his mouth shut for once. It didn’t matter though — Dream guy was clearly pissed now. “You always fight, and fight, and fight.” He growled, jerking Dean’s head back by his hair to crush their lips together.

Dean tried to squirm away but he was held too tightly, and pressed against the wall he had no leverage, so Dean brought up his knee as hard as he could right into Dream guy’s groin. 

Dean smiled as the guy hissed in pain and bent slightly over, releasing Dean, who quickly stepped away from him. 

The guy straightened up, and for the first time Dean was able to see his eyes. They glowed violet as fury twisted his face. “All this time I’ve lost. You would’ve been trained by now.” The guy snarled out. 

Dean backed away at the power he could feel pouring off the guy and then squinted in confusion when the guy pulled two long pieces of gold thread from his pocket. They looked like golden pieces of dental floss, they were so thin, and then they wobbled and bounced in the air. 

“What are you do—” Dean started to ask as the guy whispered something and flung the strands at Dean. Each strand wrapped around a wrist and pulled Dean back against the wall. Dean’s eyes widened as they wrapped several times around each wrist. Tying themselves off, they jammed into the wall, locking Dean’s hands to the cement about a foot out on each side of his head.

Dean’s mind couldn’t process what had happened at first. As soon as his mind kicked in, though, he started pulling and tugging, but the strands were solid and strong. Dean wasn’t going anywhere.

“Let me go.” Dean demanded, but his voice sounded more scared than strong. What kind of magic was this?

The guy just smirked and walked slowly over to Dean, reaching out and untying the knot of the toga like covering Dean had made from the blanket. He pulled it away, letting it fall to the floor. Dean shuddered in disgust as his gaze, still faintly purple, traveled over every inch of Dean’s body. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Dean tugged uselessly against the bands before opening his mouth to call out to Crowley. 

“No, I don’t think so, my beautiful hunter.” The guy grabbed Dean’s throat and squeezed, stopping his call for help. He leaned in, plastering his body against Dean’s. “Just relax. I’ll make you feel so good.” The guy murmured as his lips closed over Dean’s. Sweetness flooded Dean’s mouth and he tried to pull away and stop it because whatever it was, it always made Dean horny and out of control. 

“No, no, no. Stop It.”

“Come on, Dean, stop panicking. Do something!” Dean screamed at himself. He concentrated on the Mark and urged it to block the poison or whatever. Slowly, Dean felt the effects lessen before disappearing completely. 

The guy jerked back surprised, his gaze zeroing in on the Mark. “Hmm, that’s interesting. The muppet warned me about that.” 

“The muppet?” Dean asked, trying to get the guy to talk about anything, if to just stop… this… from happening. 

Dream guy smiled up at Dean. “Don’t worry. I’m pretty sure it won’t matter at home… but if it does, the troll told me how to fix it.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean said, still pulling against the bindings in vain. 

“You should have let me make you feel good Dean. I know what you’ve been through the last few months. And now this is going to hurt.” Dream guy said, sounding sad and disappointed. It didn’t stop his hands from traveling all over Dean’s body and using his long legs to push Dean’s apart. 

“Don’t touch me.” Dean yelled in fury, panic starting to sweep through him. “I don’t want you.” 

“Shhh. You will.” Dream guy said. He pressed his fingers against Dean’s hole, pushing in with two dry fingers. Dean arched his back and gasped in pain. 

“You’re so tight, my beautiful hunter. I can’t wait to have you all to myself. That mini ogre thinks he can make me sit back and wait for his timeline.” The guy spat out, his fingers moving rougher in his anger. “Well, the rat underestimated me.” The guy said with a smirk as he pulled out and started fondling Dean’s cock. “I managed to keep a crack open. That’s how I can visit you in your dreams.” His voice had gotten lower and Dean could feel a huge bulge pressing against his hip. 

“Stop it.” Dean demanded again, his voice betraying him when it cracked. The guy just hummed and reached for his buckle. 

“This is just a dream.” Dean muttered to himself. He whimpered as he felt a huge cock pressing up against his ass, now freed from the guys pants. The guy grabbed Dean’s legs and lifted them up by his thighs, wrapping them around his waist. Just as he was about to push in, the two froze when they heard a voice call out. “Dean. Dean!”

“Squirrel! Squirrel! Come on, wake up!” Crowley voice echoed around the chamber. Again, the guy’s face twisted in rage, his eyes burning purple. Dean managed to mutter a last fuck you before following Crowley voice. He snapped his eyes open, finding Crowley sitting on the bed next to Dean. Relief washed over Crowley’s face when Dean’s eyes shot open. 

“Bloody hell. You had me worried there, Squirrel.” 

Dean gasped and felt down his body, feeling the blanket still tied to him like a toga and his whole body started shaking. Despite the fact that Crowley had imprisoned him in this room of stone, Dean welcomed the warmth when Crowley pulled Dean into his arms and started to stroke his back murmuring softly until Dean finally stopped shaking. 

“What happened?”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut, hoping the memory would disappear, but it was right there. Dean could feel the guy’s hands, could feel the tightness of the golden strands holding him against and wall. Dean pulled back from Crowley slightly. His heart thundered and he broke out in a fine sheen of sweet as he started to shake all over again. His wrists had circles of bruises around them, matching where the strands had been. And when Dean looked at his arms, bruises forming the imprint of a large hand were clearly visible on each biceps. 

Dean’s eyes widened in panic. Crowley, following Dean’s gaze, growled. “What the hell. Did he…”

Before Crowley could finish, Dean was already shaking his head. “Not this time. You woke me up in time.” 

Crowley… I’m sorry.” Dean ground out. It hurt to say it, because he wasn’t the least bit sorry for not killing Cain, but he couldn’t be in this room anymore. 

Crowley stared at Dean’s eyes for a few seconds and then his mouth lifted up in a wiry smile. “No, you’re not.” Crowley said. Dean’s stomach sunk. “But timeout is over.” Crowley said. In the next beat Dean found himself laid out on their bed back at the beach house. 

“I’ll run you a bath.” Crowley said, getting up. He took a few steps before pausing and turned back to Dean, a hard look on his face. “Don’t cross me again Dean. I won’t let you off so easy next time.” Dean just nodded, and for the second time that evening, wisely kept his mouth shut. 

Crowley stared at Dean for a few more seconds before he turned and walked into the bathroom. Dean heard the water turn on. 

Dean laid back on the bed and squeezed his eyes shut. Tears gathered and fell down the sides of his face. Dean had never felt more alone. Crowley may have brought him home, but he felt betrayed by his punishment. Even though he knew deep down he defied Crowley, and even though Crowley was back to his caring and attentive self, Dean now knew it could change in an instant. He no longer felt safe and secure here. 

Dean couldn’t wait for his year to be over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor violence between Crowley and Dean. Dream guy attempts to force himself on Dean. Non-con touching/kissing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam makes a costly mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi see end for notes.

Sam was drunk. Very drunk, and had no business being on this hunt by himself. But being drunk was the only way Sam could stand himself at the moment. Despite the hard time Sam had always given Dean about his drinking, he really saw the appeal now. 

Sam had spent the first few months numb and in shock after the vampire massacre, which Sam had taken to calling it. The events of the past few months were weighing him down. Sam was appalled at his actions, at how he had treated Dean, how he had ignored and pushed him away over and over while he let his anger get the best of him time and time again. How he locked his brother up in the bunker after he had been held prisoner by Abaddon. What the hell was he thinking, Sam asked himself over and over again. And on top of all of that, what does Dean go and do? He goes and makes another deal in order to save Sam’s life. 

Dean once again traded his life for Sam’s. 

Sam would say it was incomprehensible that anyone who had been treated the way Sam had treated Dean would do that… but it was … Dean. 

Sam always knew Dean put him before everything and everyone and most especially himself, but after everything that happened, it really made Sam realize just how much. Sam now realized that when he told Dean he wouldn’t be his brother anymore, he had taken everything away from Dean. Sam would have been better off killing Dean himself than saying something like that to him. 

And now.

Now, Dean was Crowley’s pet, yet again at the mercy of a demon, all in order to save Sam. He wished he could talk to Dean and tell him how sorry he was. When Cas had told Sam what Dean had done when Cas was captured, how Dean had saved his life twice over by stopping the angels who were going to kill him and then by forcing him to take more grace, Sam was overjoyed that his brother was still, well, his brother. And then Cas had told him how Dean had someone managed to gain control of the Mark. That must have been what he had been working on in the bunker, and the fact that he felt he had to keep that a secret was heartbreaking to Sam. They were complete strangers and Sam had only himself to blame for that. 

Finally sick of staring at the walls of the bunker Sam started going on hunts, keeping them small because he was alone. And once out and hunting he heard stories, stories of Dean’s successful hunts from other hunters regaling the tales, none aware of the Mark or what Dean had been through and thankfully unaware of his deal. But then the coup de grace just a few days ago that occurred had Sam finding out that demons were only allowed to possess dead meatsuits, which he knew only Dean could have managed to make happen. Despite being essentially a slave to Crowley, Dean had still managed to protect and save hundreds of lives by that one action. 

So. Sam was drunk. Hunting a werewolf with no plan of action other than charge in and kill the monster. Ironically, the type of hunting that Sam always belittled Dean about, going in half cocked and hoping for the best. Well, if Dean could do it, then Sam would too.

So it was really not much of a surprise when Sam felt the bullet enter his abdomen just as he finished stabbing one of the four werewolves (Sam had only thought there was one in his defense). Sam gasped as pain blossomed through his body, and he fell to his knees. His eyes, already blurry from the alcohol in his system, blurred even further from shock and pain. He slumped to the floor, watching a werewolf bend over him with claws outstretched, ready to take his heart. Sam thought he was hallucinating when the werewolf froze and cried out in pain and a blade, or a bone rather, protruded through his chest. Sam looked up. He thought he saw Dean just before blackness sucked him under.

Sam thrashed in pain, the feeling of fingers digging in his stomach. 

“Shh, I know, Sammy, I know it hurts, but I have to get the bullet out.” Sam heard a voice saying. A voice that was comforting, but felt out of place, like it shouldn’t be here. 

Sam felt cotton shoved in his mouth. “Okay bite down on that. Ready?” He heard, as fingers carded through his sweaty hair.

Sam yelled as metal joined the fingers. The room started to spin. He thought he heard an “I got it,” but Sam was already tumbling into blackness.

The next time he woke up was on a soft bed, looking up at cracked, stained ceilings. His eyes were so fuzzy he could barely see, and the pain was intense. All he could focus on was the burning, tearing pain in his stomach.

He felt something pressed to his mouth. “A few sips. Come on, you can do it,” the voice coaxed. Groggy, Sam opened his mouth and swallowed some of the water. A couple of pills were pushed into his mouth. He choked a little trying to swallow them. He should be scared, he didn’t know where he was, or who he’s with, but for some reason, Sam knew he could just trust the person. He felt safe. He felt, well, loved. And despite the excruciating pain, he fell back under.  
\------  
Dean watched as Sam fell back into a drugged induced sleep. He ran his hands through his hair in agitation and fear. He didn’t know what else to do. One of the werewolves was the sheriff, so taking Sam to the hospital in this small town was out of the question. He didn’t have time to take care of the bodies, so the news was already blowing up with the murders. 

Dean could smell the alcohol seeping through Sam’s skin. He couldn’t believe his brother, the smartest man he’s ever known, would do something so stupid. 

Hands shaking, Dean dug around Sam’s jacket for his phone. Bringing up Cas’ name, he froze. What would he say? What would Cas do — will he think Dean hurt Sam? Will he blame Dean for this? Dean didn’t think he could handle being wrongly accused again. It tore him apart and he still wasn’t completely back together again from what happened in the bunker after he killed Ephraim. 

Taking a deep breath and sitting down, his leg bouncing up and down with nerves, Dean typed out a few messages, erasing each one before he hit the send button. After holding the phone to his forehead and thinking for a bit, he came to a decision.

_Cas, it’s Sam. I’m in trouble. I’ve been shot. How fast can you get here? _Dean paused a moment, re-read it, added the motel’s address, and finally hit send. It was better this way._ _

Only a couple of minutes later, Sam’s phone pinged. _Sam are you alright? I’m 10 hours away. Can you hold on? Go to the hospital, I can find you there._

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_No, can’t, too hot, I can wait. _Dean texted back. _Text when you’re 20 mins out.__ _

__Ok. _Cas replied.__ _

___Dean sighed. Ten hours. Shit. Dean looked over at his pale and slightly shivering brother, who was still asleep. “I can do this.” He muttered._ _ _

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Dean slipped out of the room to go and get supplies. <

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________Sam woke up every few hours when the pain got too much to bear. Dean pushed antibiotics and pills into him. He had to break into a local clinic and steal supplies. He had Sam hooked up to an IV, and he kept wiping him down with a cool cloth, trying to keep the fever from climbing too high._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Sam felt the cool cloth swipe down the side of his face and sighed, trying to open his eyes and get up. A hand gently pushed him back down. “Stop. Just rest. Don’t move, you’ll make it worse. Cas is coming.” A voice said. Instead of panic, Sam again felt warmth and safety. His mind grasped onto memories of his childhood, being held against a warm chest, cool hands on his fevered skin, a sturdy chest to rest his back against, loving arms holding him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________His brother had taken care of him through every sickness of childhood, every injury from training, hunting or other various childhood accidents. Sam remembered one time, he had the flu so bad he was delirious for days, and Dean tirelessly took care of him. When Sam finally started to feel better, he was shocked to find out that Dean had been just as sick, but he had somehow managed to still take care of Sam. He’d given Sam all the medicine because they didn’t have enough money for more. Sam wondered how it felt to be a kid and never have anyone take care of you, always having to be the caretaker._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________And Sam had called Dean selfish._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Memories tumbled through Sam’s mind, Dean always taking care of Sam up until the day Dean walked away on that bridge, believing himself so tainted he couldn’t be around Sam anymore. Sam felt hands that were familiar, heard a voice that sounded the same._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“Dean?” Sam muttered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“Ssh,” the voice answered, a cool hand over his fevered brow._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“No, you can’t be here.” Sam said, forcefully trying to push the hand away. Dean couldn’t be taking care of him, not after everything he did, after everything he put Dean through. It wasn’t right._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________After fighting with the hands some more, Sam lost touch with reality again._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean’s heart hammered when Sam called out his name. He put his hand on Sam’s forehead, not liking the heat he could still feel but Cas should be here soon._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean smiled as Sam ineffectively tried to get up, his face a pout, looking a lot like when he was younger._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“No, you can’t be here.” Sam muttered._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean flinched as if he had been struck, backing up and falling into a sit on the other bed. Pain lanced through his mind and body. The Mark pulsed and burned. Tears filled Dean’s eyes as realization rushed through him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Sam didn’t want him here. Sam didn’t want him around. Even sick and delirious, Sam couldn’t bring himself to be around Dean._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean sucked in a breath, his breathing hitched. He forgot. He allowed himself to be the big brother again, the caretaker. He had day dreams while caring for Sam, of him opening his eyes and being glad to see Dean, thanking him and telling Dean he missed him, wanted him to stay._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________But of course, Dean the idiot, the stupid, stupid, fucking idiot, was wrong. Sam hated him. Even in his fever blown state, he still tried to get away from Dean._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Clutching his chest, a sob escaped before Dean could control it._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Ding…_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean flinched again, pulling himself out of his thoughts. His hands were shaking as he picked up the phone._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Cas was roughly ten minutes out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean looked back and forth between Sam and the door a few times. After gently stroking Sam’s hair and hearing a mumbled _no _, Dean quickly gathered up his stuff.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________One last look at Sam, his heart aching, Dean walked out of the room, leaving the door unlocked. He walked to the trees on the side of the motel and waited. Sure enough, eight minutes later and Cas’ pimp mobile sped into the parking lot. Dean watched as Cas jumped out of his car and went into the room._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________Sam would be okay now._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________Sam didn’t need him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________Dean turned around and walked the couple of miles back to his car and headed back to the beach house. If he was still shaking and tears continued to fall a good couple hundred of miles later, well. Dean always was a fucking idiot. It's not like he didn’t deserve what happened. He was just glad he was able to keep Sam alive until Cas could come and fix him.  
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__________Sam was still mumbling, he knew. No, no, Dean couldn’t be here. He kept thinking of how Dean shouldn’t be taking care of Sam, he didn’t deserve it. So he pushed the hands away, told the person to go away while at the same time he longed for his big brother, ached to feel his familiar embrace._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________When he opened his eyes and blurrily looked around, he saw that he was alone. How was that possible? Did he really hallucinate all that? Sam grunted trying to get up when the door burst open and Cas strode in._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“Sam!” Cas cried out. Not wasting any time, Cas walked over to Sam and placed two fingers to his forehead. Sam felt better within seconds._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“Cas, how did you… What are you doing here?” Sam asked in confusion._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“You texted me.” Cas replied. Sam and Cas both looked around the room and saw the IV still attached to Sam and the meds on the table._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“Who was here with you?” Cas asked._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“No one.” Sam said, but his voice was heavy with uncertainty. “I mean, I don’t know, I was pretty out of it. I thought… but it couldn’t be…”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“Sam?” Cas asked, tilting his head._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“I think it was Dean.” Sam whispered. But why would he take off? He didn’t remember what he said, or how he pushed Dean away either._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some blood and gore but nothing too bad. Angst.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Betrayal!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi thanks to everyone who is taking the time to read the story. Here are two chapters tonight.

Dean walked into the beach house with the goal of doing one thing. 

Get as drunk as possible.

Dean didn't care if he had to “do a Cas” and drink an entire liquor store, but he was getting drunk tonight and the Mark was not going to stop him. On his way upstairs to his room where Dean kept his stash he spied the bar in the living room, and more importantly, the fresh bottles of Craig placed there. Crowley must have gotten in a delivery. Smirking because Crowley absolutely hated when Dean used Craig to try to get drunk — said it was to be savored and respected — Dean sauntered over. He heard some muffled voices and was surprised to realize Crowley was home. 

Dean grabbed a bottle, taking a minute to admire the whiskey before grabbing a few more when the voices rose in anger. Dean paused and then moved closer, wanting to make sure Crowley wasn't going to need his help. It was his job after all.

“I don't give a bloody hoot what the demons are saying.” Crowley yelled at one of his two right hand demons. The two demons, twins, gave Dean the creeps big time. I mean — evil twins, really. Plus, the twins never made it a secret on how much they loathed Dean. 

“But my King, you must understand,” the female twin stuttered out. Dean watched as the male twin put a hand on her shoulder as if to warn her. Crowley noticed as well and his eyes narrowed.

“What?” Crowley demanded.

At the continued silence and side glances between the two, Crowley, frustrated, slammed his fist on the desk. 

“Start talking, or I will find creative ways for you two to spend eternity.” Crowley threatened and then sighed, looking up toward the ceiling as if asking for divine help in maintaining his patience. “You make speak freely.” Crowley gritted out.

Identical expressions of relief blossomed across the creepy twins' faces. The female stepped forward. “The demons are getting fed up with how you treat him your majesty. It just…” She faltered, still afraid.

“You're too soft with him.” The male said, rescuing his sister. When Crowley's face twisted into rage again he continued quickly. “There is so much unrest right now, Sir. There are already two major factions that have split off and many more on the verge of forming.”

Crowley just pffted and waved his hand in dismissal. “Just give me the names of the demons leading them and I'll have Dean take care of them.”

“See, now that's what we mean.” They said in unison. Dean quietly snorted, remembering and missing the way Sam and he used to do that. 

“You're appearing weak, Crowley. Dean is handling everything and he’s making you do things out of character. When his year is up, I'm afraid…” Another hesitation and Crowley growled in impatience, making a hurry up sign with his hand. “By then all the demons will see you as weak and you will be overthrown immediately.”

For a moment, there was nothing but silence. Dean put his hand on the blade at his back, ready to charge in. He was sure things were going to get ugly quick, and sure enough, after another tension filled beat, Crowley lost it. Flinging the two demons across the room, he started to yell.

“Do you think I care what a bunch of bloody, sniveling, minions think of me?” Taking a deep breath, Crowley leaned forward. His abrupt calmness more scary than his rage even as his eyes were bleeding red.

“Do you know how long — what I had to do in order to be King of Hell?” Crowley asked in a cold voice. The twins shook their head, wisely keeping their mouths shut. “And do you remember what I was before I became the King of Hell?”

“Uh, yeah—” one started to answer but Crowley just talked over them.

“I was the King of the Crossroads, you blithering idiots. And do you not think, that as a former King of the Crossroads, and present King of Hell, that _I wouldn’t be able to insert a loop hole?” _Crowley yelled.__

__The twins looked back and forth between each other in confusion. Dean froze. What the hell was Crowley talking about. His heart started to beat faster as Dean stepped closer._ _

__“What? My king?” The twins stuttered, somehow even that was again in unison._ _

__“You two can go back to those falsely entitled bottom feeding wastes of black smoke and assure them that Dean's deal will not be ending when his year is up. I get to renegotiate the terms, and what do you two think I will do?”_ _

__“...Extend it.” The male said. A smirk was already replacing his fear when he caught sight of Dean in the doorway._ _

__“Obviously.” Crowley said, straightening up and smoothing down his suit._ _

__The following silence was broken by a loud crash as Dean let go of the bottles of Craig in his shock and grief. They smashed to pieces on the floor at his feet, much like his heart was doing at the moment._ _

__Crowley turned toward the noise. “Squirrel,” he greeted, looking for all intents and purposes completely calm and collected. “You’re home early.”_ _

__Dean's vision narrowed to a pinpoint as a multitude of emotions swan through him. Shock, fear, regret, shame, loss, denial, disbelief, rage, and hurt. Oh God, it hurt. Dean raised a hand to his chest How could he have been so stupid to trust a demon, to think a demon was his friend, that a demon cared for him?__

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_Because you're a stupid worthless slut! _John's voice screamed in his head. Dean mentally cringed.__

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____Finally he managed to look up at Crowley, his eyes still bright with a little tenuous hope, hope that this was all just a cruel joke._ _ _ _

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____“You're not serious?” Dean asked._ _ _ _

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____Crowley sighed loudly and turned toward the twins at the sound of their snickers. “Leave.” He ordered, not amused. They both frowned in disappointment at missing the show, but disappeared regardless._ _ _ _

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____“Well, I must say I had hoped to tell you in a different way.” Crowley stated, still eerily calm as he leaned against his desk, crossing his arms._ _ _ _

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____The Mark burned and pulsed hard against the band, and Dean's head was filled with demands to _kill, kill, kill. _Before Dean could blink, he had Crowley pressed up against the wall with the First Blade at his neck.___ _ _ _

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______“Let me out of the deal!” Dean yelled. When Crowley simply raised a brow, Dean pushed the blade harder against his neck. “I'm gonna fucking kill you.” Dean threatened, but they both knew it was an empty threat. Dean couldn't do a damned thing to Crowley. He was bound by the deal. As it was, Dean's entire body was shaking with the strain of keeping the knife against Crowley's throat, and pain was already starting to blossom in his head, the pressure increasing until finally Dean screamed._ _ _ _ _ _

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_______“Fuck!” _He stepped back, grabbing his head as the Blade fell to the floor.__ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________The very next second, Dean found himself pinned to the wall, Crowley's furious face right in front of him._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“Do. Not. Ever. Raise. That Blade. Against me. Again.” Crowley ordered, almost each word punctuated with a shove against the wall, his eyes cold and furious._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean just stared at his face. This was the real Crowley, not the friend/lover/caretaker Dean had come to know. And honestly, he felt like such a fool not for the first time in his pitiful life._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Crowley took a deep breath and stepped back. “Squirrel.” Crowley started in a calm tone. Dean flinched._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“Don't call me that.” He snarled, but then his tone was changing just as fast. “Why, Crowley?” He cursed himself for sounding so needy and pathetic, his voice a pain filled whisper._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“Dean… You are incredibly powerful, more and more each day despite the leash you put on the Mark. It's just good business.” Crowley said._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________Dean felt like his insides had been ripped out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“Just good business,” Dean repeated in disbelief._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“And I won't share or give you up.” Crowley added. Neither of them had to ask what Crowley was referring to. There were times since they got together where Dean had called to Cas in his sleep, prompting arguments and Crowley to show his jealousy._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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________“And you don't share.” Dean repeated again, this time incredulously. “I wasn't... I was gonna… with you. I. . Are you serious?” Dean finally snapped._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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“Come on Dean. Why are you getting so upset? We've been good together — great, in fact! They'll write songs about us, graphic novels; _The misadventures of Crowley and Squirrel.” _Crowley spread his arms out to emphasize his point by gesturing grandly, smirking all the whole.__

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__________”You tricked me.” Dean said. He was unable to believe Crowley was being so nonchalant about everything, about Dean finding out he was bound to him for however long Crowley wanted —and, let’s face it, however long Crowley wanted? Was more than likely going to be eternity._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“You lied.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“Who do you think you're talking to here? Does the tin man have a sheet metal willy —of course I lied.” Crowley quipped, but then got a sinister look on his face._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________“It's not like you have anywhere else to go, or anyone else who wants you.” Crowley said trying to sound sympathetic. But the words came out the only way they could, especially coming from Crowley; oily and cruel._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________Dean flinched again. He didn’t bother to try stopping the single tear that escaped his eye to slide down his face, not that he could have even if he wanted to._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________Crowley tracked the tear with his eyes. He suddenly stepped forward again, pressing up against Dean. He wanted to scream, and rage, and push Crowley away, wanted to rip him apart, even while Dean simultaneously longed for the comfort that only Crowley’s been giving him this past year and a half. He really was so pathetic._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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__________Crowley wiped the tear away with his thumb. “Dean.” Crowley said, forcing Dean to meet his eyes. “You would do the same thing.” Crowley whispered confidently. He leaned in and kissed Dean softly on the lips before snapping out._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

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Dean stood there in shock for an undetermined amount of time before slowly walking up to his room, almost numb with pain and betrayal. Yet another person betrayed Dean. He felt like at this point, he was walking around with a big sign on his forehead that said _Fuck me over! ___

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_No, you're just so fucking stupid. _John snorted in his head. _Trusting a demon, boy?___

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______Dean shook his head to get rid of the hateful voice and came to only to find himself kneeling in front of the toilet, losing what little food he’d consumed._ _ _ _ _ _

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______When he managed to stand again, he pushed himself to the sink, relying heavily on the counter to keep him somewhat upright. His body was shaking, and after rinsing out his mouth and splashing water on his face, he dared to look at himself in the mirror.______

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Dean could barely stand the sight of himself. He would never be able to fix things with Sam, not that Sam wanted that, but it was completely off the table now, and Cas, well… 

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Dean just stared and saw the faces of everyone he trusted and betrayed him. Sam, Cas, Bobby, Gadreel, and even his dad sneering at him through the mirror. _Working with a demon, fucking a demon, trusting a demon, a monster like the one who killed your mother. Pathetic. _John sneered. And then Alastair smiling. _I taught you better, pet. But you were always meant to be in hell. _He lisped in his nasally voice.____

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___Dean choked a cry because he couldn't even deny anything that was going on in his head. But the Mark started to pulse anyway, his rage and self disgust becoming too much, and it all bubbled over._ _ _

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He snapped. 

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With a numb mind that was only distantly aware of the destruction he was causing, Dean tried to focus on his stinging knuckles when he punched the mirror. He tried to focus on the satisfaction of the sound of the phone being slammed off the wall, landing somewhere. He tried to focus on the exertion of his muscles as he strained and heaved, picking up the TV and smashed it to the ground. 

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Lamps, chairs, anything and everything he could reach was soon torn apart and scattered across the ground in shattered pieces until there was nothing left for Dean to destroy. His energy expended, Dean sunk to the floor, his knees tight across his chest. He broke down, and sobbed, bumping his head against the wall behind him a few times. The pain that twisted his face was what eventually managed to tide him over to a certain degree, his body ceasing its hectic need for movement enough for him to sink back into his thoughts. He was just so done. Dean hugged himself tighter, and the action made the hard edge of the crystal dig sharply into his skin. It was supposed to be so Crowley could help Dean, _‘find him if he was in another bad place.’ _Fucking bullshit. It was a goddamn tracking device to keep his pet from wandering off.__

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Dean snarled and pushed himself up. He grabbed the First Blade, and with one quick slice, he dug out the crystal, hissing in pain but resolutely avoiding the free and heavy flowing of his blood dripping thickly onto the already ruined carpet below. 

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_“Motherfucker!” _Dean snarled. He threw the bloodied crystal on Crowley's pillow, and grabbing his bag, Dean stormed out of the beach house.__

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing triggering in this one just some violence and Dean's self hatred and some serious angst. Picture the scene at the end of season 10 when Dean's in the hotel room before he goes to Death when reading about him destroying the room.
> 
> Note: In the first story Crowley inserted a crystal into Dean's arm so he could always find him and get to him no matter the wards.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean runs and finds himself at an unexpected place. Sam and Dean talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi there are some triggers in this chapter, please send end for notes. 
> 
> This chapter was really long so I split it in two. I will try to post the other half tonight or tomorrow.

Dean sat in the Impala staring at the bunker. He’d been parked here for a little over an hour. He actually had opened and closed the car door several times, but he just couldn’t quite get up the nerve to go knock on the door. 

He’d noticed Cas’ pimp mobile was parked out back, so obviously it wasn’t like no one was inside. 

_Maybe I could use the excuse that I need to research the Dream guy?_ Dean wondered. He wasn’t sure how long he spent trying to think of a valid excuse for being here. But then, Dean didn’t really want to let them know about _that_. Now that he knew it wasn’t just a fucked up figment of his imagination, Dean really didn’t want to let his brother and angel know that, once again, Dean had been taken against his will, and by another monster no less. So yeah. That idea wasn’t gonna fly.

_Maybe I could just update them about capturing Gadeel?_ But, no. Then Dean would have to tell them about how Gadreel escaped, and it would just further reinforce what a loser and bad hunter Dean was. He could just see the looks of disappointment mixed with the ‘ _why am I not surprised_ ’ on Sam and Cas’ faces. That is, if they even let him in. Sam had made his feelings about Dean pretty clear when he was shot. Although… Dean did still hold out a very small, tiny tendril of hope that Sam didn’t know what he had been saying. It was stupid of him to cling to such a fantasy, but, heh. Dean is nothing else if stupid, so why not?

However, with idea after idea being thrown out, Dean banged his head against the steering wheel in frustration. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time. Crowley would track him down soon. Dean was surprised he hadn’t found him already, but Dean also knew that Crowley was smart enough to give Dean a chance to cool down.

_I’m so stupid,_ Dean thought for the thousandth time. Trusting a demon —trusting his _enemy_ , knowing how manipulative and cunning Crowley really was. All those flashes of looks that Dean dismissed as one thing or another were clearly signs that Crowley was up to no good. And Dean just ignored them. Hell, Crowley waiting an entire month for them to have sex? How could Dean have missed all those signs?

_Stupid, idiotic waste of space._ John’s voice yelled in Dean’s head. _You know your brother got all the smarts, you’re so stupid, you couldn’t even graduate! You’re only good for two things, Dean; following orders, and taking care of me and my friends, especially now that you drove the only good thing in this family away._ Dean cringed. That was just one of the memories from after Sam left, before his father had used him up so much he abandoned Dean too. 

Staring longingly at the door, Dean admitted defeat and started the Impala up. He drove away, never once looking in the mirror, and hence completely missing Sam trying to wave him down.

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Dean intended to drive away and not stop until he reached the beach house. From there, he would try to figure out a way to deal with what he learned about his deal. It was better to go there then to be fetched back like a runaway child, but Dean still found himself turning down the first dirt road he came to, driving up the dock. He always loved this place, hidden from the road and therefore rarely ever used. Dean sometimes wondered when he came out here to think if the Men of Letters used it for some kind of supply drop or something. 

Dean got out of the car and walked down the dock, sitting down on some old crates and stared at the water. What was he going to do? It was one thing to do everything Crowley wanted, to work for hell, to fulfill his deal. Yes, it sucked big time. Dean wanted nothing more than to tear them all apart and shut the place down completely. In fact, his first few months Dean had killed way too many demons. If they so much as looked at him sideways or disagreed with anything Crowley said, Dean would fight and kill them. It had gotten so bad that Crowley put the stipulation of the “Dead Suit Only” rule in an attempt to stop Dean from killing all his followers. 

So now Dean had to listen and be subjected to even more taunts and sneers because the demons knew he couldn’t do anything about it. Dean had thick skin, he knew could handle it. Now, however, to be forced to be in that toxic environment against his will — that was a whole other story. Dean felt tears spring to his eyes, mentally asking himself again how he could be so trusting. So naive. Here he was, Dean Winchester, blindsided by a demon. He basically handed over the most powerful weapon out there right now — himself — to the King of Hell. But worst of all? Dean had started to care, and he actually thought Crowley cared about him too. 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._ Dean squeezed the bridge of his nose to try and stop the tears.

_So fucking weak. You think anyone wants you. Your own brother can’t stand to be around you — had to leave me_ and _this family. Stupid, fucking waste of space._ John was screaming inside Dean’s head, making him wince at the memory. He ran a finger over the place that used to hold the scar on the side of his head, courtesy of a whiskey bottle that John had slammed into there on the first of Sam’s birthdays after he left. That had been a really bad night. Dean had ended up in the emergency room the next day, needing a cast and a couple hundred stitches — including ones in his ass. And to make things worse, when Dean tried to call Sam to wish him a happy birthday, he found the number had been disconnected. Dean had honestly considered ending everything then, but he spent his whole life with the goal of avenging his mother, and Dean wanted to at least follow that through… or wait until John finally got on the wrong end of a hunt so the possibility that John would go and steal Sam from the new life his brother had happily made for himself would be gone. 

God, Dean was so tired. He’d been trying his best to not sleep for too long. He just couldn't deal with Dream guy right now, not with everything else in his life going to shit. 

At the sound of footsteps crunching on the leaves, Dean sighed loudly. For fucks sake, it wasn’t like he was hurting anyone here. Although, technically the place was still property of the MOL, so Dean really didn’t have the right to be here. Hastily wiping his tears away, Dean stood up and turned to watch his brother coming up the dock. 

“I’m sorry, Sam. I just — well, you know, whatever. I’ll take off. I didn’t mean to trespass.” Dean said. He was steadfastly looking anywhere but at Sam, not sure that in his fragile and emotional state that he could handle the coldness or scorn that was for sure to be in Sam’s eyes. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” Sam called out when Dean started walking back to the Impala. “Dean, stop.” Sam demanded and Dean froze.

_Fuck, here we go._ Dean turned around, bracing himself for the worst. But his eyes widened in surprise when all he saw in Sam’s eyes was a gentle hope. Dean frowned in confusion. 

“Dean, you don’t have to leave. I saw you outside the bunker.” Sam said in a low tone.

_Fuck!_ “Yeah, sorry ‘bout that.” Dean repeated, stuffing his hands into his pockets. God, he was so uncomfortable. He longed for the days when their relationship was easy and comfortable.

Dean started to back away again, but Sam stepped closer and grabbed Dean’s arm to stop him. Dean flinched at the unexpected touch, Sam’s large frame and hands bringing up visions of Dream Guy. Sorrow flashed across Sam’s face before he lifted his hands in supplication.

“Sorry, sorry.” He said. “Just, don’t go, okay? Can we just sit, and talk — or just sit?” Sam asked, giving Dean the puppiest of all puppy eyes.

Dean just stared at Sam for a few moments, trying to figure out what was going on. Not really knowing what to say, he merely nodded and sat back down on the crates. Trying to be subtle, Dean squeezed his arm. The Mark was burning him just for being near Sam. 

Sam sat down next to Dean. Like that, they sat together in silence for a few minutes. It was Sam who broke it first. “So that was you, when I got shot?” Sam asked. 

Dean nodded again. “I’m sorry, Sam. I couldn’t just leave you hurt like that.” Dean said, starting to explain his actions.

Except, Sam scoffed. “You actually think I would be mad about that? You saved my life Dean. Again. And you stayed, and took care of me, called Cas to help me… After everything.” Sam paused, and when he continued, his voice was quieter, shakier. “Why?”

“Why?” Dean repeated. He was flabbergasted that Sam would even have to ask. “Why — cause you’re my brother,” Dean said. “Yeah, I know you don’t think that way anymore, but I do, I always will. I know you hate that, but I can’t change it, Sammy. I just can’t.”

Words all out and leaving him with nothing more to say, Dean was gearing himself up to dare and take a peek at Sam, determine how angry Dean had just made him — when he felt big, strong arms pull him into a tight hug. Dean tensed at the unexpected embrace, his mind flashing to hard hands gripping his biceps, but then Sam’s familiar scent of strawberry — _geez, so girly_ — shampoo and the ever constant and familiar old book smell engulfed Dean. Slowly, he relaxed and hesitantly managed to hug Sam back as well. 

“...What’s going on, Sam?” Dean asked. He was confused at this complete one-eighty of Sam’s, wondering if maybe Sam wasn’t aware of what he had said when he was out of it at the motel. 

Somehow, he could tell that Sam rolled his eyes at that without even being able to see his little brother’s face, tucked into his shoulder as it was. “Nothing,” he responded, voice muffled. “I just missed you, okay?”

They finally pulled back from the hug. “Yeah, okay.” Dean scoffed, and looking down, he missed the hurt look that flashed across Sam’s face. 

Sam sighed. “Why don’t you come inside for a drink? Cas would love to see you.” Sam offered. He was carefully watching the expressions that flashed across Dean’s face; reluctance, hope, and then anxiety. Sam swore to himself at that. Of course Dean would be nervous about coming into the bunker. The last time he did, Sam had locked him in. 

“No lock down this time, I promise.” Sam said earnestly. _Whatever load of help that would do. “_ Here.” Sam wordlessly held out his phone, and he knew he didn’t have to say anything for Dean to understand what he was offering. 

Dean still looked hesitant, but then nodded, waving away the phone. Who really cared at this point if he got locked up again? Crowley was still going to be able to get him. He was anxious, but not about being held at the bunker — just about why Sam was acting this way, and the thought of seeing Cas again.

_Cas…_

Sam studied his brother out of the corner of his eye as Dean got to his feet. The look of anxiety wasn’t diminishing the slightest from his face. Sam’s stomach sunk a bit. Dean looked exhausted, almost as bad as he had looked when he was struggling with the Mark. Sam wondered if something was going wrong with the band. He really wanted to talk to Dean about it. For Dean to come up with something like that on his own was pretty remarkable. Sam knew most people underestimated Dean, and Sam was by far the most guilty of that, but Dean could be pretty amazing, especially when it came to hunting. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers for flashbacks of child physical and sexual abuse. Suicidal thoughts. 
> 
> Note: In the first part Sam and Cas lock the bunker down to prevent Dean from leaving when he was on the verge of turning. When Sam tries to give Dean his phone its so Dean will see Sam won't try that again.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean, Sam and Cas talk at the bunker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second part of the last chapter. See end for notes.

Sam walked behind his brother, just waiting for him to bolt, but thankfully, Dean, after pausing in front of the back door for a few seconds, walked in. He slowed down a bit and glanced at Sam nervously, and understanding his brother’s hesitance, Sam quickened his pace and walked into the kitchen first. Cas was seated at the table with some coffee in front of him. He looked up when Sam came in. 

“What happened, Sam? You just took off.” Cas started questioning right away. “Is everything al…” his voice trailed off as he saw Dean step into the doorway. Sam watched in amusement as Cas tried to jerk to his feet too fast, knocking over his cup, and after fumbling around a bit finally managed to free himself from the kitchen table and chair with a huff and pink cheeks. 

Cas walked up to Dean, ready to pull him into a long time coming hug, but Dean stepped back slightly. Cas immediately paused, a hurt expression flashing across his face. Sam could tell Dean saw it, and after a swift glance around, Dean stepped into Cas’ arms for a quick hug. Sam watched as again, Dean flinched at the contact, clearly not comfortable hugging Cas of all people, and he really started to worry that something else was going on. Unless it was just PTSD from everything Dean had been through? Or was Crowley treating him badly? Sam’s hand unconsciously tightened into a fist at the thought of Dean being Crowley’s pet. 

The three stood there, awkward silence reigning for too long of a moment before Sam once again was the first to break it. Casually suggesting they have a few beers, he pushed Dean and Cas out of the kitchen and towards the war room. Trailing behind, Sam hung back in the kitchen for a little longer to grab two beers and a fresh cup of coffee for Cas before following, unable to help the bounce in his step. Dean was actually here in the bunker, he had come on his own, and they were actually getting along. Try as he might, there was no controlling the big smile that spread across his face. 

Dean glanced around as they went into the war room. This was a big mistake. Emotions flooded him. He glanced over at where Ephraim had been killed and could almost feel the blade entering his chest again. He remembered the terror, and the hurt, when Cas and Sam came into the room accusing him. 

Dean’s face paled a bit, and he put a hand up against where his mortal wound had been. He was about a half a second from leaving, but Sam put a hand on his shoulder, gently guiding him into a chair. “Relax, Dean. We’re just going to talk, okay? I promise.” Sam said, handing him a beer.

Dean nodded again. His voice was stuck in his throat, and he still couldn’t bring himself to meet their gaze head on.

Sam seemed to pick up on Dean’s discomfort, because he started asking Cas about his progress with finding Metatron. Dean sipped his beer and admittedly, listening to them talk had him gradually feeling more comfortable to the point that he was able to ask a few questions himself. He couldn’t hold back the small smile when Cas practically beamed at him for that. 

At a lull in the conversation, Dean couldn’t wait any longer and spoke up by himself.

“Cas, are you doing okay? How’s the grace holding up?” Cas tilted his head at Dean’s question and smiled.

“It’s fine, Dean. Thank you again, for helping me.” Cas said, his blue eyes piercing through Dean’s skull.

“Was n’thn.” Dean mumbled. He snorted slightly when Cas rolled his eyes. 

“And you, Sam.” Dean asked, swiveling his head to stare at his brother. With the question burning at his tongue begging to be let out, he didn’t even realize that he was meeting Sam’s gaze easily. “You’re not drunk hunting anymore, are you?”

Sam flushed in discomfort at being called out on his truly stupid decision, and Dean was glad to see even Cas glare at Sam. “No, learned my lesson.” Sam said. “That was a pretty stupid thing to do.” Sam admitted. 

“Understatement.” Cas growled. Dean chuckled softly. Damn, it felt good to be in their company again. Dean could admit that he had been really lonely. Sure, Crowley was very attentive, but he was the King of Hell and extremely busy. So Dean was often off doing his own thing. Dean swore to himself now, to enjoy and remember every moment of this time he had with his brother and angel. When Crowley came for him, who knew how long it would be before Dean was going to be out and about again? Frowning at the thought, he forced himself to push it aside. 

“So, Sam. Gotta ask, I mean, you know better than to hunt like that. Did something happen with Amelia? I’ll admit, I’m really surprised you’re still here at the bunker.” Dean asked, voice light but the worry for Sam bleeding through anyway. Anger coursed through him at the thought of that chick hurting Sam. She would be the luckiest person to be able to have Sam in her life. Dean couldn’t believe she would think otherwise if she actually did do something. 

Sam looked confused. “Who?” That was followed by, “What the hell are you talking about, Dean?” Sam blurted out, flabbergasted by Dean’s question. Why the hell would he be asking about Amelia of all people? 

Sam watched as Dean just shrugged. “Just wondering what upset you so much that you would hunt like that, all drunk and definitely not in the condition to.” Dean mumbled. Sam just stared at his brother. “Never mind.” Dean mumbled. He was embarrassed now, that he asked something personal when he didn’t have the right to. 

_Was he for fucking real?_ Sam’s defenses went up and he was ready to throw back a scathing retort to mask his disbelief, but then he took a deep breath, because yes, he did learn something from all the shit that went down, and so he reined in the anger. 

Looking at Dean, Sam realized Dean meant his question. He wasn’t being snide or passive aggressive or anything. Dean actually thought that the reason Sam was drinking was because of something else, something other than the fact that his brother had whored himself out to save Sam’s life.

And just like that, sadness spread through Sam, because of course Dean would think that. It's not like Sam has given him any indication that he would be upset if Dean wasn’t around, so that Dean would realize it was guilt, worry, and despair, over him that had Sam drinking. 

Shoving the urge to scream and shake his brother at his stupidity, Sam forced his answer to come out as calm as he didn’t feel. “I never contacted Amelia.” He watched as Dean looked up with genuine surprise in his eyes. 

“Then is it, you know. About Kevin — cause you know that’s all on me Sam. You have nothing to feel guilty about.” Dean said with conviction. 

Sam snorted in disbelief, this time unable to help himself as frustration pushed forward. Sam felt Cas put a hand on his arm to calm him. 

“Dean, do you really… I mean, yeah. I’m still upset about Kevin, but did you really think I was just gonna up and go — go find a girl, or-or go live a normal life?” Sam asked through gritted teeth. 

Dean’s eyes widened in surprise at the tone of Sam’s voice, his eyes flickering between Sam and Cas and then landing on Cas’ hand on Sam’s arm. Hurt and resignation flashed across Dean’s face, making Sam frown, absently trying to figure out what his brother was thinking. 

“Okay…” Dean said, his face blank once again. “So, then why?” Dean asked, a little anger bleeding into his voice despite his control. “Why would you do something so stupid Sam. You could have died!” Dean said, his eyes flashing.

Sam only just caught himself from grinning at the look of brotherly indignation and worry in Dean’s eyes, knowing it wouldn’t go over very well right now and would probably be misinterpreted since things were so bad between them. But damn, if it was so good to see that familiar look on his big brother’s face. So Sam just shrugged, Dean stared at him for a few moments before the blank look fell down on Dean’s face again. This time, Dean shrugged back, picking up his beer and visibly turning his attention away from Sam.

Dean schooled his emotions and shrugged like it didn’t bother the fuck out of him that Sam wouldn’t confide in him about what was going on in his life. At the same time, Dean swore at himself for getting upset when he was the only one to blame here. If Sam didn’t trust him to talk to him about things going on in his life, things so big that he hunted while incapacitated, then Dean had no right to push. So he shoved his emotions back down, and put the Dean Winchester brand poker face back on. 

After thirty minutes or so of awkward small talk being pushed out into the strained air, Sam mentioned he had found a hunt. Figuring that was his cue to leave, Dean stood up, but stopped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder. Dean looked at Sam, cocking his eyebrow in a silent question.

“Uh, Dean… you want to come with us? It's not really something we’ve seen before.” Sam said, and again, he was flashing those puppy dog eyes at Dean. Dean’s first thought was _hell, yes,_ but then he remembered Crowley. 

Weighing his options yet not wanting his time with them to end since it was entirely possible Dean would never see Sam again, he came to his decision.

“Yeah, okay.” Dean said. Sam and Cas both smiled, but Dean continued before they could say anything. “But I might have to leave in the middle of things.” Dean said, looking away uneasily. He didn’t want to have to admit to them that the truth was, he might be called home like a school kid in trouble. 

“What’s going on, Dean?” Sam asked. 

Dean looked at his brother before looking away again, a small tight and embarrassed smile forcing his lips up. “I’m kinda AWOL right now,” Dean said. “Not sure how long before Crowley catches up, you know.” Dean said, quieter.

Sam put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, stopping him from getting up as his eyes burned fiery blue in anger. Sam tightened his grip, a silent warning for Cas to calm down. It wasn’t going to do anyone any good if Cas let his anger out and try to go after Crowley, like Sam could clearly see he was itching to do.

“Okay, Dean. that’s okay. Work it with us as long as you can, yeah?” Sam said. He was rewarded with a shy grin from Dean at his words. 

“Yeah?” Dean asked, trying to make sure.

“Of course, Dean.” Sam responded. “Let’s grab a few hours and then head out first thing in the morning.”

And, yep, another awkward silence fell between them yet again. Dean wasn’t sure if he should leave and come back, or what. _This was so fucking uncomfortable._ Not for the first time, Dean started to wish he never came here, or agreed to come in. 

“Dean,” Cas said, continuing in the same tone when Dean looked up. “Do you want to sleep in your old room?” Cas asked, his eyes squinting at Dean, his expression matching his tone. 

Dean pictured his room in his head. The last time he was in there was when Sam kicked him out. Hopelessness, loss, and utter despair. The bare room that used to be saturated with Dean’s personality, his first real room since he was four, that’s what it represented for Dean now.

“No.” Dean said, a little too loud. Cas and Sam frowned, and Dean awkwardly cleared his throat. “No, um. I’ll just take the couch.” Dean said, waving toward it. “That okay?” Dean asked, because god forbid he dared to do something without their permission. The bunker was the farthest thing from his home now, and as much as his heart ached at that, he’d do well to keep reminding himself of the fact that they were all aware of. 

But Sam sounded confused when he replied. “You don’t want a room?”

“Nah. I’m fine here. You should go and get some sleep, you guys. I’ll be fine.” Dean repeated, already walking over and sitting on the couch so that he could take a moment to look away from them, to not have to face Sam or Cas. 

Sam and Cas exchanged looks again, and pain and longing sliced through Dean again. He never imagined himself being an outsider around Sam, or even Cas for that matter. It hurt, but he had no one else to blame but himself. Dean again thought of how coming here was a bad idea. He really was a glutton for punishment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing really triggering, just Dean remembering his brush with death and Sam and Cas' betrayal.
> 
> Note: Dean almost died in the previous story and Sam and Cas accused him when he was defending himself. He sustained a mortal wound but Crowley saved him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets another visit. Cas helps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggering content in this chapter, please see end for notes. 
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments if you are enjoying the story.

Dean jerked awake at the sound of someone in the room with him. Dream guy stood in front of a bookcase, running his long fingers down the spines of several books, humming as he read some of the titles. 

“Get the fuck out.” Dean growled. He sat up, looking around for Sam or Cas before realizing there was a soft haze in the air and everything was muted. He was dreaming. How did this asshole get into his dreams, when he was in the bunker of all places? Dean was starting to get sick to his stomach, especially seeing Dream guy tainting the place he used to call home.

“You shouldn’t have come here.” Dream guy said, his back still to Dean as he pulled out a book and rifled through the pages. 

“And why is that?” Dean asked, disdain in his voice. Dean edged his way over to a sword on display, only to watch it disappear. Dean spun around to see a mocking smirk on Dream guy’s face. 

“Why try to ingrain yourself back into your brother’s life when you will be leaving it soon?” Dream guy took a step closer to Dean. 

Dean stood his ground, glaring at the guy. 

Dream guy brought a hand up to touch Dean’s face and Dean immediately slapped it away, only for anger to morph Dream guy’s face into something twisted. 

“Don’t touch me.” Dean hissed. 

Dream guy took another step closer to Dean. Lightening fast, he grabbed a hold of the hair on the back of Dean’s head and yanked it back. “Who’s going to stop me?” He said, bringing his other hand up and caressing Dean’s check. His eyes darkened in lust. “My beautiful hunter,” he purred, brushing his thumb across Dean’s bottom lip before abruptly letting Dean go. Dean stumbled before regaining his balance. The bastard was playing with Dean, and it simultaneously scared him and made him furious.

“I know how much Sam means to you, Dean.” Dream Guy continued talking.

Dean scoffed. “You don’t know anything about me.” He tried to rebuke.

Dream Guy smirked again, his confidence unwavering. “I know everything, Dean. You talked about Sam back home a lot. Worried about him, how you needed to get back to him when I had you…”

“‘Back home.’ Really?” Dean scoffed. “You mean when you had me locked in a cage like an animal.” Dean sneered. 

“Like a treasured possession.” Dream Guy corrected, his eyes were narrowed in anger before he smiled again. “Just think how sad little Sammy is going to be when we go home, this time for good.” Dream Guy said.

“I’m not going anywhere with you. I’m going to kill you.” Dean promised. This time, he made the advance himself and stepping forward. “You should leave and never come back.” Dean threatened. 

Now Dream Guy’s face clouded over with anger. His eyes flashed purple. “You are my possession.” He said, and flung Dean against the bookcase. “You are mine, and I will have you back.” He said. Again, his eyes flashed and Dean was thrown onto the couch and pinned by his power.

Dean squirmed against the supernatural hold. When it didn’t give, he forced himself to take a calming breath. Focusing on the Mark, it flared red, and with a _pop_ Dean broke free and stood. 

“Hmm, interesting.” Dream Guy said. In the blink of an eye, he had several gold strings out again and tone was flung out at Dean.

Dean tried to evade it but he didn’t move fast enough. He felt his arms being jerked behind him, and the gold strand wrapped tightly around his arms from wrist to forearm.

“Son of a _bitch!”_ Dean yelled, struggling to break free. He tried to focus on the Mark, but Dream Guy took another strand, whispered some words and flung it at Dean. Dean could only watch in horror as the string circled his arm right above the band, swirling so fast it was a gold blur and then it stopped, rearranged itself and molded itself to Dean’s arm. A perfect replica of the band, but there were dozens more of the twirls Dean used to control the Mark on the new band. 

Dean’s eyes went wide, his breathing hitched. The dreaded cotton like feeling descended over him. The string had blocked the Mark, exactly how Abaddon’s cuffs had. 

Dream Guy smiled wide at the look on Dean’s face when he realized any advantage the Mark had given him against this monster was gone. Dean found himself thrown back onto the couch, his hands crushed beneath him as Dream Guy quickly followed. He straddled Dean, his large, tall body pushed Dean further into the couch.

“Get the fuck off!” Dean cried, trying to buck him off but he only received a chuckle in response. Grabbing Dean’s hair again, Dream Guy crashed his lips onto Dean’s.

“Let’s try this again,” Dream Guy said with a smile when he pulled away from Dean’s lips. With growing horror, Dean realized he could taste the sweetness that filled his mouth. 

“No!” He tried to scream, but it was all muffled. And with the Mark bound, Dean felt the unwanted sensation flow through his body, heat and lust flaring in his brain. The disgust he felt at himself was muted even as he bucked his hips up against Dream Guy’s, his body no longer his own all the while his mind screaming and pleading to stop.

“Ssh. I know what you need, my beautiful hunter.” Dream Guy purred. He tore off Dean’s pants and ripped off his shirts, and all Dean felt was heat, and want, and he writhed on the couch trying to free his hands. Dean wanted, he needed, he had to have…. 

Dean clenched his eyes, seeing blue.

“ _Cas_ ,” Dean whimpered. He wanted Cas, he needed Cas. “Cas!” He called out again before blinding pain shot through his face. His eyes flew open in time to see Dream Guy slap Dean again so hard, if Dean wasn’t pinned underneath him he would have been hurtling across the room.

“You dare say another’s name.” Dream Guy said, all humor and smugness gone in a beat and replaced by utter fury.

“Get this through your head, Dean.” Dream Guy said as he lifted up slightly. He manhandled Dean around so he landed on his stomach. 

“You. Belong. To. _Me_.”

He wrenched Dean’s legs apart and Dean felt his cock at his entrance. 

More lust coursed through his body at the feeling of Dream Guy’s cock, but Dean’s mind rebelled, the only part of him that was still himself. 

“ _No_!” He screamed. He felt himself being split open as Dream Guy roughly thrust into him. 

“No… stop. _Don’t_ …”

___________

Castiel stared down at Dean, writhing around on the couch, fighting something within his sleep. Castiel had awoken when he felt and then heard Dean call his name. There was such need and want in Dean’s voice that Castiel thought he was for sure dreaming. Then he picked up a feeling of fear and panic from Dean, and he was stumbling out of bed and racing back into the war room.

Castiel stopped short as Dean yelled, “No!” and “stop,” and “ _don’t touch me_.” Dean was caught up in a horrible nightmare that at first, Cas sat down next to him, trying to shake him awake. He shook him softly, but more pain filled cries were still permeating the air, and growing desperate, he tried shaking harder only for Dean to still not respond to him.

With no other choice, Castiel put two fingers on Dean’s forehead and used some of his grace to pull Dean from his nightmare. He was surprised but pleased that the Mark let him do so. Dean’s eyes popped open and he gasped, his eyes wild with terror. Castiel swiftly gathered Dean in his arms, rocking him gently.

“Shh it's okay, it was just a dream.” Castiel whispered in Dean’s ear. 

Dean snorted at Cas telling him it was just a dream, because he knew it wasn’t. Dean’s cheek and wrists throbbed in pain, and his ass felt like it was on fire. Dean would blame the artificial lust on the fact that he snuggled deeper into Cas’ arms and allowed himself to relax, but then, Dean was always a master at lying to himself.

Cas shifted their positions so he was lying flat on the couch, Dean snuggled up against his side, his head resting on Cas’ chest. It was not unlike the way Dean had snuggled with Crowley, and Dean experienced a flash of guilt, feeling like he was cheating on the demon. Except, no. Dean remembered with no small amount of disgust — though it would never compare to how he felt in his dreams — that Crowley was planning to enslave him for eternity, and so keeping that in mind, Dean pushed the rest of his thoughts aside. He allowed himself to feel safe, and he drifted off to sleep again with the feeling of Cas’ fingers running through his hair.

This time, he slept peacefully, and not once did Dream Guy intrude his dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dream Guy rapes Dean.
> 
> Has anyone figured out who Dream Guy is yet?


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam, Cas and Dean hunt a mythological creature. Dean exhibits more powers. Dean's luck runs out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, hope all is well. 
> 
> I actually wrote this chapter before the show aired last season with the same monster. I was trying to introduce something the show hadn't, but oh well that's what happens when you take over a year to write something. Hope you like it. It's bit of a break from most of the angst. 
> 
> No triggers in this chapter.

“A gorgon? Really.” Dean said, kind of excited at the chance of seeing one.

“According to the lore, it sounds like it.” Sam said. Cas hummed in agreement.

“So if it's Stheno or Euryole, that mean it's immortal.” Dean said looking at the computer, but at the sudden silence he looked up. Both Sam and Cas had slightly shocked looks on their faces. 

“I read.” Dean groused. He tried to avoid thinking about the familiar pain he felt whenever people were surprised when he displayed his knowledge on something. 

Sam’s face went red in embarrassment and he’d started to stutter out an apology, but Dean just waved a hand in dismissal; he didn’t want to hear it. Surprisingly, when he glanced up at Cas, he found the angel smiling softly at Dean, that look on his face like Dean could do no wrong. Now it was Dean’s turn to feel the heat sweep across his face. He didn’t understand how Cas could still look at him like that after everything, but there was no denying the fact that it still made him feel warm inside. 

Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Dean looked back at Sam. ”So, how do we kill this thing if it’s immortal?” Dean asked. Sam shrugged, turning toward Cas for any input. 

“I don’t know. They have never attacked humans before. This is the first incident that I’m aware of. Hopefully, either the angel blade or the First Blade will do the trick.” Cas said. “The problem is getting close to it. Both Euryale and Stheno have the power to freeze people.”

“What, you mean turn ‘em into stone, like Medusa?” Dean asked. 

“No. Medusa is the only one who did that. Euryale and Stheno’s power is more of just freezing them in their place, similar to how angels or demons do so. But since it’s their main power… their hold is so much harder to fight, if practically impossible. It allows them to get close enough for the snakes to bite and inject the venom.”

_ Awesome. _ Dean thought dryly. He tried to strategize in his head. Cas was doing okay, but he was nowhere near full power. And even if he was, it sounded like the gorgon was still going to be more powerful. It was going to be tricky to catch her off guard. 

After a few more hours of research, Sam found what looked like a binding spell that might work from the Men of Letters’ archives that he had on his computer. Armed with the ingredients, they set out for where the last couple of victims were seen, hoping to find some clues. While driving through the town, the Mark began to burn, and Dean frowned down at it in confusion. He passed through an intersection and the burn faded. On a hunch, Dean swung the car around and went in a different direction. Again, nothing. Swinging the car around again, he went the last way, and sure enough, the Mark began burning again.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sam yelled. He was holding on tightly to the handle of the door, bracing himself with all the swift turns Dean was making. 

Dean hushed him, too busy trying to concentrate. 

“Dean!” Sam called out, getting frustrated. 

“Sammy, just wait a damn second.” No sooner had the words left his mouth when Dean gasped in pain as the Mark flared up. “Fuck.” Dean grabbed at his arm, and looking back to the road, he noticed they were coming up on an older house. He may not have been the geek between the two brothers, but even he could notice the Mediterranean style architecture. “She’s here.” Dean said. He drove past the house, swinging around again to park the car out of sight.

“What? How can you possibly know that?” Sam asked scornfully. 

Dean stayed silent for a few seconds, until Cas piped up from the backseat. “Dean?”

“The Mark it’s... I don’t know, feeling her powers or something. When I went the wrong way it faded, and now it’s really strong, and — geez, I mean, look at that house.” Dean said. “It even  _ looks _ Greek.”

Sam looked closer at the house. He had to agree with Dean, but he wasn’t sure how he felt about this new development with the Mark. Sam thought Dean had it under control... so why was Dean exhibiting more powers with it? Sam opened his mouth to question his brother when he felt Cas’s hand on his shoulder. Turning around to look at him, Cas just silently shook his head. 

Dean could tell by the bitchface Sam was giving him that he didn’t like what he was hearing, and Dean kept watching as Cas reached over and stopped Sam from talking. Again, Dean got that pit in his stomach. He noticed it yesterday too. Sam and Cas had gotten closer than they had ever been, and now, Dean felt like the third wheel, an outsider. Tears sprang to his eyes at the thought, but he quickly stuffed those feelings down. They had a gorgon to kill, and Dean being a needy little bitch wasn’t going to help anything or anyone.

They crept around the back of the house, picking the lock and quietly letting themselves in. As soon as they crossed the threshold, they froze when they heard a low growl. 

“...Why do I hear a dog?” Dean asked, looking around. He didn’t see anything, but before Cas or Sam could answer, more growls were heard as a — holy shit. A giant dog with three heads was charging at them. It was one of the craziest things Dean had ever seen, and he’d seen a lot in his miserable life time. It had three heads with snapping jaws dripping with saliva, a serpent-like tail, and actual red snakes growing out of its body. 

“Cerberus.” Cas said, his angel blade dropping into his hand. 

“That’s the dog from the books?” Dean exclaimed, but if he got an answer, he never heard it, leaping out of the way just in the nick of time. But though he got out of the way, he watched in horror as the serpentine tail swept across the room, knocking Cas and Sam into the walls. Cerberus roared and headed for them. Too far away to get in between them and the dog, Dean whistled. The dog stopped, all three heads swiveling to glare at Dean. Despite the murderous eyes, Dean was morbidly fascinated.

“Here, boy, come on.” Dean goaded, and whistled a few more times. The dog just looked back and forth between them, trying to decide which direction to take. Everything came to a standstill as the dog stiffened, and in synchronization, the three heads swung back in the direction of Sam and Cas. 

_ Shit _ . Dean pulled out his gun and emptied it into the creature. It barely flinched as the bullets entered his thick hide, but it did the trick. Enraged, all three heads roared, and the dog leaped across the room toward Dean. 

Dean felt a surge of power from the Mark, his blood singing in response to the battle cry of the creature. Dodging and rolling, Dean managed to swipe a few slashes across its chest and back. Panting, he was continuously trying to avoid being eaten and therefore missed the creature’s tail coming up behind Dean until he felt it wrap around his waist. Dean gasped in pain as the tail squeezed him and lifted him straight off the ground. He barely managed to swipe the First Blade across the tail, and with a particularly vicious grunt, he hacked off the end, leaving Dean to tumble to the ground. 

Cerberus howled in agony, but it didn’t succumb to the pain. It was barely stalled actually, as it launched itself at Dean again. Scrambling to his feet, Dean ran toward the wall to the side, and in a move that would make any parkourer green with envy, Dean jumped halfway up the wall, pushed off with his legs, and somersaulted in the air, landing on Cerberus’ back. Grinning in delight at the maneuver he managed to pull off, Dean tried to steady himself enough to stab the giant three headed dog, but the creature was bucking wildly. It was as if Dean was riding those mechanical bulls back in a bar. Hanging on with just the strength of his thighs and legs, Dean used the rest of his upper body strength to bring down the Blade with everything he had, stabbing down right into its spinal cord. Using the knife like a saddle, Dean rode out the last throes of the monster’s life as he continued to push the Blade in deeper. Finally, the dog collapsed, and Dean leapt off just as it landed on its side, dead. 

Panting, his abdomen screaming in pain from where the dog almost crushed him, Dean stayed crouched down, trying to ride out the pain. He vaguely heard Cas and Sam come up, and felt them pulling at his arms, trying to help him stand.

“Dean, god, that was…” Sam started to say, when he was interrupted by a high pitched screech.

“ _ Cerbi _ !” The gorgon screamed, falling to her feet in front of the monster, hands fluttering over his heads. She then looked up, and narrowed her eyes at the three, honing in on the blood dripping from the First Blade still held tightly in Dean’s hand. With another screech of fury and loss, the gorgeous woman shook her head, and suddenly, there were hundreds of red hissing snakes in place of her hair. 

“You will pay for killing my Cerbi.” She promised. The three started to spread out with a shared plan to attack from all sides, but the gorgon raised her hand and a pulse of energy flew across the room, swiftly freezing them in place.

Dean struggled, but couldn’t move a damn inch. He felt like he was encased in a thick, oily, plastic sheet. Hell, he couldn’t even move his eyes, and with the ensuing silence apart from the gorgon, he guessed Cas and Sam were in the same predicament.

Stheno laughed as she saw the three men frozen in her power. Well, not three men… one was an actual angel. That was interesting. Stheno had never seen one of those before. She walked over, and patted the head of unruly dark hair. She could feel the angel’s grace fighting the hold, but she wasn’t worried. “I’m too powerful for you, angel.” She chuckled. “ _ Your _ powers will not help you here.”

She moved over to the tall human, close enough that her head hissed and licked across his frozen flesh. “Hunter,” she spat. “Do you really think a mere human could take on the likes of me?” She cackled, but there was fury lighting her eyes. 

She didn’t say anything else to the tall human. No, she was finally turning her attention to the one who dared to kill her beloved Cerbi. She studied him for a moment. He was certainly very handsome. She ran a hand down the side of his face. His eyes were like emeralds. It was really too bad she had to kill him. Except — she paused. There was something different about him. Puzzled, she circled the frozen body a few times. He was human… but he wasn’t. 

Too far into her confused thoughts, she failed to notice the slight movement that could have been visible from the corner of her eye. So when the unusual human broke free of her hold, she gasped in shock. “What are you?” She demanded, for the first time in her life, feeling afraid. 

Green eyes took in his two friends still frozen and snapped back to her face. “Your end.” He growled, and attacked.

Dean listened to the gorgon talk to Cas and Sam and gritted his teeth. The Mark started to burn hotter and hotter, when Dean felt a slight give in his plastic like encasement. Finally, right where the Mark was on his arm, he felt air caress his skin as the Mark burned his trap away. Once that happened, Dean was able to break through the no longer impenetrable hold. 

Snapping back into motion, he grinned as Stheno gasped aloud. Growling, he lunged as she reared back, avoiding the blade, but Dean still felt the fangs sink into the meat of his arm as several of her snakes got close enough to bite. Dean screamed, white hot agony racing up his arm from the venom and hunched over. But just as quickly, he felt power bursting from the Mark, instantly cooling the fire. 

Dean straightened, yanking his arm away from the tiny fangs, Stheno gasped in shock again. “That’s not possible!” She screamed. 

“Oh, anything’s possible with me, bitch.” Dean said. He reached toward her with his free arm, hundreds of snakes immediately latching on. Hell’s torture combined with all the pain his life had dealt him was the only thing that enabled Dean to push past the angonizing pain from the lethal venom currently flooding his system, no matter how excruciating the sensation. 

Gritting his teeth, he didn’t try to bother shaking the snakes off. Instead, Dean grasped as many as he could in his fist, and yanking the startled gorgon forward, he used the momentum to carry her right into the path of the First Blade. Dean watched in satisfaction as Steno shuddered. Slowly, she transformed into stone, but only to them crumble into a pile of dust at his feet.

Letting himself go, Dean fell to his knees, gripping his bitten arm close to his chest. He shuddering in disgust at the mangled appendage. The hundreds of snake bites and venom made his arm look like hamburger meat. It was disgusting, but Dean felt and concentrated on the last of the venom being diluted from his system by the Mark. 

“Dean.” Cas fell to his knees beside Dean, Sam pausing in a half crouch. Cas gently took his arm and examined it. “Will the band let me heal you?” Cas asked, already reaching forward.

“No, Cas.” Dean said, trying but unsuccessful in his attempt to yank his arm back. “Don’t waste your grace.” Dean gritted out. The venom was gone, but the pain was still unlike anything Dean had felt in a long time.

Cas huffed and rolled his eyes. Ignoring Dean, he braced himself for the Mark to reject him, and put two fingers to Dean’s forehead. It was with no small amount of relief that he felt his grace slowly worm itself into Dean, healing his arm.

Dean gasped in relief and smiled at Cas. “Thanks.” He said. He gently tugged his arm back from where Cas still had it grasped in his own hands.

“Well, that was…” Sam started to say, only to be interrupted  _ again _ . 

“Pretty spectacular.” Crowley said, appearing in front of them. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected arrival.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi here are two more chapters. There is nothing triggering in this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for reading. Please leave kudos or comments. There were no guesses about Dream Guy so either its totally obvious or people are going to be very surprised.
> 
> Have a good weekend everyone!

“Well, that was…” Sam started to say, only to be interrupted  _ again _ . 

“Pretty spectacular.” Crowley said, appearing in front of them. 

Dean stood up quickly, taking a small step back at the fury in Crowley’s eyes. 

Sam’s mind was still spinning from everything that had just happened, from Dean locating the gorgon using the Mark, to being confronted with a giant mythological dog and Dean’s crazy, aerobatic type maneuver to enable him to kill it, and finally, to the gorgon freezing them. Sam could still feel the wet tongues that slithered across his skin when she walked close to him, and shivered at the memory. 

Sam watched in amazement as Dean was able to break free, only to double over and scream out as the snakes bit into him and injected their deadly venom. However, instead of just keeling over and dying? Dean managed to straighten up, and Sam could see the Mark glowing a bright angry red beacon on Dean’s arm. And then Dean had been attacked by hundreds of snakes, yet he still managed to grab a strong enough of a hold and killed the immortal gorgon. 

Sam was shaking with the implications of just how much power his brother now had. Which was why it was such a surprise to see his brother step back, fear creeping onto his face at the sight of Crowley. 

Stepping forward instinctively to try to aid his brother, Crowley growled in annoyance, sending him and Cas back against the wall, pinned by the demon power. It was really starting to get tiring, being slammed around and pinned to walls like mere rag dolls, and a quick glance revealed that Cas felt the same, too. 

“You think you can just run away from me, Squirrel?” Crowley shouted. He backed Dean up against the wall with his advance and grabbed Dean by the throat. “You removed the crystal.” Crowley accused. 

Pale with fear, for a few seconds Dean was silent. And then he seemed to come back to himself as his face turned thunderous. He tried to push Crowley away, simultaneously trying to raise the Blade, but with a jerk of a finger, Dean’s hand, with the blade, were pinned against the wall. 

“You know you aren’t allowed to hurt me, Dean.” 

“Fuck you.” Dean snapped. “You lied to me. You’re just like everyone else,” Dean said. His voice cracked, going from fury to hurt in a split second. Confused at what Dean meant, and the obvious breakdown of their relationship, Sam’s heart clenched painfully in his chest at the look of betrayal he was becoming all too familiar with seeing in his brother’s eyes. 

“Dean,” Crowley started, moving his hand from Dean’s throat to his chest. “I’m the King of Hell. Do you really think I would let someone as powerful as you go?”

There was silence, thick with tension after Crowley’s statement, and Dean thunked his head back against the wall in defeat. 

“You only have him for a few more months.” Sam said, causing Crowley’s attention to swing toward him. “Then Dean will kill you.”

Instead of looking bothered by what Sam said, Crowley chuckled. He turned back to Dean. “You didn’t tell them Squirrel? Still keeping secrets. I guess not much has changed.” Crowley patted Dean on the cheek. Dean growled.

“What are you talking about?” Cas said. 

“You see,” Crowley said. “I was King of the Crossroads before my talking over Hell. Putting together deals is what I did for centuries, so I know how to add in a loophole when the opportunity arises.” Crowley looked entirely too pleased with himself, and meanwhile, Dean looked ashamed, his face pinking up in embarrassment.

“Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean just shook his head and looked down. Sam gritted his teeth again at the display of submission. Dean had just singlehandedly killed an immortal creature and a powerful monster. This was just wrong. 

“Don’t think too badly about your brother, Sam. He was so worried about you and feathers over there being captured by the vampire, that he just didn’t notice when I said I would renegotiate the terms of the deal when the year was up.”

“What does that mean?” Sam said, but deep inside, he already knew and dreaded the answer. 

“It means,” Crowley explained, rubbing his hands together in glee. “That when my Squirrel’s year is up, it will be up to me whether I want to extend it. I could add another year… another ten, or… well, let’s just be honest here.” Dean snorted at that, but Crowley ignored him. “I think eternity has a nice ring to it.” Crowley said. He continued to ignore the words of denial and threats.

Dean wanted the floor up to open up and swallow him whole. It was bad enough that he had let himself be tricked by the demon, but now his brother and angel were once again smacked in the face with Dean’s utter incompetence, stupidity, and overall dumbass-ness. 

Crowley walked back over to Dean, leaning in close. Dean’s eyes flickered down to Crowley’s lips and wished things were the way they were a month ago, or a week ago, even, when Crowley would just ravish his mouth and they would have mind blowing sex. But now it was all tainted, tainted by Crowley’s betrayal. Dean wondered if any of it was real... or if he was just playing the fool the whole time. 

“First, I think another time out is in order, Squirrel. Did you miss your little stone room?” Crowley smirked when Dean’s eyes widened. That was the last place Dean wanted to be, trapped and alone with his thoughts and fears. The week and a half he spent there had felt like a year, and he suspected he wasn’t going to be let out that quickly again. 

Confirming that Crowley said, “And I won’t be cutting it short this time, Dean. Then, when I’m ready to let you out,” Crowley said, his eyes bleeding red in his fury. “I’m going to gather up all my demons and publicly punish you.”

Cat calls and snickers erupted from the dozen or so demons Crowley had brought with him at that statement. Dean’s face blazed red in embarrassment and shock that Crowley would be so cruel. 

“No, Crowley.” Dean said, horrified. 

Crowley slapped Dean across the face, grabbing his throat again. “Don’t. Tell me. What to do. Squirrel. I AM YOUR K—“ Crowley didn’t even have the time to express an exclaim of disbelief or surprise when he was flung away from Dean. 

“Let him go, Crowley.” A voice demanded. 

Shocked, Dean’s gaze snapped up to Cain.  _ When had he gotten here? _ Dean’s stomach twisted up. Yet another person he admired was here to witness Dean’s stupidity. 

Crowley scrambled to his feet, smoothing down his suit. 

“This is none of your business, Cain.” Crowley snapped, trying to look unaffected. But Dean knew Crowley, probably better than anyone at this point, and he could see the fear lurking beneath his mocking look. 

Cain stepped further into the room, completely at ease. “If it has to do with Dean, then it is my business.” Cain replied.

Crowley sputtered a bit again, at a loss of words, which Dean had to smirk at, because the only other time he had seen Crowley rendered speechless was when they were at Cain’s house. 

Recovering, Crowley practically started to vibrate with power, but Cain just stood there, his arms crossed, and quirked a brow. “Really, Crowley?” He said. Raising his arm, Cain curled his hand into a fist. Crowley grabbed at his neck, his face contorted in pain. Cain calmly waved his free hand, and the demons found themselves pinned to the wall adjacent to Dean, Sam, and Cas. 

“You have two choices here,” Cain explained, walking closer and squeezing tighter. Crowley’s eyes were practically bulging out of his face. “Release Dean from his deal and live… or I kill you, which in turn will release Dean from his deal.”

Cain relaxed his fist, letting Crowley stand up again. Then Crowley being Crowley did what he does best, and unsurprisingly tried to make a deal. “Come on, now, Cain. I’m sure there’s something we can work out between us. Ask me for anything,” Crowley said. “Anything else.” He added, his eyes boring into Dean’s like Dean planned this. Dean just shrugged, because he had never expected to see Cain again, let alone have him help him out.

“Crowley.” Cain growled, going to close his fist again. Crowley immediately shot his hands up in surrender.

“Fine.” He gritted out. He waved his hand at Dean’s thin red lines wrapped around Dean’s body glowed into existence for a few seconds, and then slowly fizzled out.

“And any other loopholes.” Cas spoke up. Cain grinned at the angel, looking back at Crowley, who had a sheepish look on his face. With another wave, about six, tiny lines appeared and then died out again.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying.” Crowley said. And with a strange look at Dean that Dean couldn’t decipher, he promptly disappeared when Cain took another step forward. 

Dean looked up at Cain in awe. “Cain, did you just— Why did… Uh. Thank you.” Dean finally got out. His mind was spinning with everything that just happened. 

Cain walked up to Dean and cupped Dean’s jaw. “Are you okay?” Cain asked, his voice tender.

Surprised, Dean looked into Cain’s ice blue eyes and just nodded. “Thank you,” Dean repeated, his voice softer. To his utter shock, Cain pulled him into a tight hug. It took a second for his brain to catch up, but then Dean was hugging him back just as fiercely. 

Dean smiled at the uncomfortable look on Cain’s face when they pulled back. The hug seemed to have surprised the Knight as much as it did Dean. From the corner of his eye, Dean saw a shocked look on Sam’s face, and Cas looked like he was a few seconds away from launching himself at Cain. 

“So, I guess I owe you a big one.” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. 

Cain held up his arm. The band he wore flashed as it caught the light. “I’d say we’re even.” Cain replied. “Take care of yourself, Dean.” Cain said, and with that, he vanished. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is free but he's scared of what's next. Sam finally gets to tell Dean something important.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only trigger is lots of angst, hurt/comfort. Finally some Dean and Sam one on one. Hope you like it.

Dean sat outside the motel room on a plastic chair. He could hear Sam and Cas inside talking. Sam’s voice was higher than normal, almost manic, talking about everything that had happened that night, how he couldn’t wait to get back to the bunker to document the hunt, and how he was going to sleep for a week. Dean heard Cas’ low grumble but couldn’t make out his words. They were packing up their things because Sam wanted to leave right away.

Dean was sitting there, still trying to process everything that had happened. He still found it hard to believe he was no longer bound by his deal. That Cain, of all people — or demons — had saved him. Dean pressed his hand against his chest as a weird feeling coursed through him. 

He was free.

He was alone.

He didn’t have to protect demons anymore.

He had no one.

He didn't have submit to Crowley anymore. 

He could kill demons again.

He was free.

He’d been dumped.

Dean snorted at himself. It was irrational, and he felt like a teenager, but Dean felt like he had been dumped. Yeah, Crowley was never going to let himself be killed and admittedly couldn’t possibly stand up to Cain, but still… It all just seemed too easy. Crowley was a manipulative bastard. Hell, he had set up the whole scenario with Dean getting the Mark, and that included manipulating Cain, and he just halfheartedly tried to make a deal and caved? 

It was just too easy. 

Had any of it be real? Or was Dean really that big of a fool? 

Why did he care so much? Crowley had destroyed anything they had when he planned to betray Dean and extend his deal, but he had also been the only one to stand by Dean this last year and a half. 

And what was he going to do now? He would have to go back to the beach house and get his things. And that was going to be hard, because Dean had begun to really think of the place as home. He lost the bunker, and now he lost the beach house. It was just him and Baby again. And wasn’t that just pathetic?

Dean supposed he could still go on some hunts with Sam and Cas if they needed him, and he still needed to figure out the whole Dream Guy situation — which he doesn’t imagine Crowley will be helping with anymore. And there was still Gadreel, and Metatron, but… he was well and truly all alone. 

A sob threatened to escape but Dean pushed it down. He could wait until Sam and Cas left before letting anyone in on the fact that he was feeling bad. It was his problem, but the more he sat there, the worse he got. His vision started to narrow and his breathing was quick and shallow. Fuck. Dean could tell he had a full fledged panic attack brewing. He needed to get out of here before they saw how weak he was. 

Dean stood up on shaky legs, and it took almost everything in him to school his face into a blank mask. He stepped into the doorway and grabbed his bag, which was conveniently on the bed nearest to the door. Cas and Sam were at the table on the other side of the room looking at something on Sam’s laptop.

Taking a deep breath, he hoped his voice didn’t sound like he was about to fall apart. “I’m gonna take off. See ya.” Dean muttered quickly. Dean turned around and swiftly exited the room. 

He got to Baby and rested his head against the cool metal for a second. He just needed to get in and drive for a bit, and then he could let it all out. It was so hard, his vision was blurry, he felt like he was in a tunnel, and most sounds were muted. Dean noted his hand was shaking as he opened the door, just to have it slam back closed. 

_ What the… _

Dean looked up to Sam’s reflection in the window standing behind him with a confused and slightly angry look on his face. Great. What did Dean do now? 

“What the hell Sam?” He said, cursing his voice when it came out shaky instead of outraged.

Dean watched as the expression on Sam’s face softened, but he still didn’t turn around to face his brother head on. 

“Hey, Dean. You okay? What’s going on?” Sam asked. He put a hand on Dean’s shoulder, causing Dean to flinch at the unexpected touch.

“Sorry.” Sam said, raising his hand pointedly and stepping back a bit. 

“Look, Sam. I’ll just talk to you later, okay?” Dean said. He went to open the door again, still keeping his back to Sam as he felt tears escape from his eyes. 

“What!l Sam exclaimed, and then cleared his throat, trying again in a softer tone. “I don’t understand — Dean, where are you going?”

Dean just shrugged.

“Dean, come on, please. Turn around and come inside so we can talk for a minute.

“Please.” Sam reinstated, when Dean just stood there. 

With a long sigh, knowing Sam wasn’t going to just let him get into Baby and drive away, Dean nodded, and followed Sam into the room. 

He looked around, but didn’t see Cas. 

“Cas went for a walk.” Sam explained, without needing Dean to say anything aloud.

Sam could see Dean was on the edge and was struggling, so he gently put his hand on Dean’s back and rubbed it in small circles, not saying anything. Finally, after a few minutes, he felt Dean relax a bit, and his breathing evened out. 

“Better?” Sam asked. Dean nodded, turning his head away and discretely wiping away his tears. 

Sam was confused as to what brought this on. He was shocked when Dean came into the room and said he was leaving. It took his brain a few seconds to catch up, but thankfully, he caught up to Dean before he got into the car and drove away. 

He thought Dean would be happy and relieved. He was expecting to be asked to go for beers or something to celebrate. He wasn’t expecting to find him to be on the verge of leaving and having a panic attack. 

Sam watched as Dean just fiddled with his hands, his leg jerking up and down. He still wouldn’t look at Sam.

“So, what’s up, Sam? Did you need something before I take off?” Dean asked, trying, and failing, to sound normal. He still wasn’t looking at Sam.

_ ‘What the hell’  _ Sam thought. What was he missing here? And then it hit him like a sledgehammer.  _ Fuck _ . He just assumed Dean would be coming back to the bunker, but he never said anything, Sam never asked him. Sam’s heart started to beat a little faster at the thought that Dean would say no, because he didn’t want to go back there without Dean, especially now that Dean was free from Crowley. 

“Look, Dean… Uh,” Sam started. He took a deep breath, and dove right in. “I’m sorry, Dean.”

Dean turned and looked at him with wide eyes. 

“About what?” Dean asked, looking genuinely confused. 

Fuck, how did Sam manage to mess things up so bad? They were like strangers, and it was killing Sam because he knew, he really had no one to blame but himself. 

“First, I’m sorry I didn’t make things clear. I just assumed… I mean, I figured. I didn’t…” Sam started to say. He stopped when he realized he was rambling. He took a breath and started again. “I just assumed you would be coming back to the bunker with us.” Sam said, looking up at Dean.

“What? Why?” Dean sputtered confused and a little shocked.  


“Dean, I really need to explain a few things, okay?” Sam said.

Dean looked like he wanted nothing more than to bolt out of the room, but he stayed seated. After pinching the bridge of his nose, he nodded. “Okay, but Sam, I’m not really... I know you’re still mad—“ 

“Woah, woah.” Sam said. He was shocked that Dean thought he was, what, just going to yell or something. “Please, just. Look, you know the night I told you to leave the bunker?” Dean immediately cringed at the memory. 

“Yeah.” Dean said, looking down and trying to quiet his jiggling leg. He clearly didn’t want to talk about this, but Sam was determined. 

“It was only thirty minutes, you know.” Sam said. Dean frowned, looking up with a questioning look on his face. “Actually, it wasn’t even that long. It just took that long for me to get up the guts to go and talk to you. I realized almost immediately I’d made a mistake and the truth was, I didn’t want you to go, Dean.”

“Sam… I don’t…” Dean started to get choked up. This was such a bad memory to be dealing with right now on top of everything that happened today. He just lost another home, and now Sam wanted to talk about when he lost the bunker too?

“No, Dean. I tried to tell you this the night of the Vetalas, but I never got around to it. I went to your room but you were already gone. I tried to call, but your phone, and well… You know.” Sam didn’t think he needed to mention how the phone had gotten broken when Sam had beaten the shit out of him. He definitely didn’t want to either, that was for sure.

“You know, in the past, we’ve always — when things got really tense — we’d throw some punches, duke it out and then things would always seem to be better or something?” Sam said. Dean just nodded slightly, his expression not showing anything. 

Sam sighed. “So, that night. I mean, I was angry —  _ really _ angry... and ...and...jealous.” Sam admitted. He quirked the corners of his lips up ever so slightly when Dean looked flabbergasted at that comment. 

“Jealous of what?” Dean asked. 

“Crowley.” Sam admitted easily, and then paused. “Well, your relationship with Crowley. You were getting closer to him, and we were getting further and further apart, and then he made you laugh. Dean, you hadn’t laughed for years. I mean, that in itself? Was awful, man. And I hadn’t even realized it had been so long, but then to have Crowley be the one to finally get you to laugh… I just lost it.” Sam hung his head.

“So, I’m sorry. I thought you would fight back, we would get things out of our systems, and then things would get better, but then you…”

“Didn’t fight back.” Dean said. His face was finally showing some emotion, and thankfully, it was an expression of understanding.

“Didn’t fight back.” Sam repeated with a nod of his head. “Then, watching you limping away like that, just… so clearly sad and broken? I realized how much I hurt you, physically and emotionally, and that I might continue to do that. But I didn’t want to hurt you anymore. I didn’t want  _ us _ to hurt each other anymore.” 

Sam cleared his throat. He hoped that he was getting through to Dean. Dean, who was back to looking at his leg. “So that’s why I said you needed to leave, but I realized right away instead of telling you to leave, I should have been talking to you, and telling you I still wanted you to be my brother.”

Dean’s head snapped up at that, childish hope stamped across his features. “What?” Dean asked him in a whisper, but then he tensed… almost like he was expecting Sam to say  _ ‘psych! Just kidding!” _

Pushing down the frustration, Sam let his facial muscles relax, and gave Dean some serious puppy eyes. “Yeah, Dean. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t really messed up at the time, and really,  _ really _ , angry and betrayed. But I do wish—I wish I never said… And then the way I treated you in the bunker. I’m just…”

Sam stopped. Dean was finally looking right at Sam, and Sam remembered the look on Dean’s face in that parking lot when he disowned him, in the kitchen when he said he wouldn’t save him, the look when Sam flinched after the werewolf attack, when Dean tried to hug him, his bruised and battered face, the hopeless eyes after Sam beat him up, and the shock, the betrayal when Sam locked him in the bunker, and the other countless times Sam was cruel and vindictive since Gadreel. The memories of how much he had hurt Dean over and over cascaded through Sam’s brain, and he lost it. All that anger, all that rage, and hurt, that caused him to make mistake after mistake with his brother was too much, and Sam started to cry. 

“I’m just so sorry, Dean.” Sam said again, tears rapidly streaming down his face. He started to choke up, his vision going black, and his shoulders started to shake as he hunched inwards. Suddenly, Sam found himself wrapped up in strong, warm arms as Dean pulled him close and murmured, “it’s okay, Sammy, I get it. Please stop, it’s okay. I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you.”

Fingers brushed through his hair and he was rocked, just like Dean had done countless number of times when they were growing up, to calm Sam after nightmares, new schools, getting hurt... As he was cradled in his big brother’s embrace, one he thought he would never feel again, the thought ran through the back of his mind that Dean shouldn’t be comforting him. It was supposed to be the other way around, but right now, he just needed this. 

Sam needed his big brother, his mother, his father, and his best friend. He needed Dean. 

Sam stayed in his brother’s arms for a few more minutes as he got a hold of his emotions. He felt lighter than he had since this all started. He knew they still had a long way to go to being close to where they were before, but he was glad he got to finally talk to Dean and tell him what he felt. He was amazed, and also a little guilty that Dean, despite everything, still put Sam’s feelings first and did what he could to make Sam feel better. 

Sam sniffed, and pulled back, peeking at Dean from behind his hair. “So, uh. You’ll come back to the bunker?” Sam asked. 

Dean nodded, and despite the uncertain look on Dean’s face, Sam smiled widely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well that conversation was a long time coming between Sam and Dean.
> 
> I probably should have put a warning on these notes before now but don't read if you intend to read the first story. 
> 
> Note: In the first story Crowley sends Dean a fake alert which causes Dean to laugh. Sam gets jealous and they fight but Dean doesn't hit back shocked at something he found out about Cas, the Mark and not wanting to hurt Sam more. Horrified that he beat up his brother Sam tells Dean to leave. He quickly changes his mind but Dean is already gone, having anticipated Sam asking him to leave after he said he wouldn't save him so he was ready to go.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some long-buried feelings are brought to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone here are two chapters. No triggers just some angst.
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments if you enjoy.

Dean let the rumble of Baby’s engine soothe his frayed nerves. Sam and Dean were headed back to the bunker. Cas had left to go meet up with Hannah. Too much had happened all at once. But Dean allowed himself to feel better, hoping that things with Sam would continue to get easier and more comfortable — or at least, not any worse. 

“So that was Cain?” Sam said, a hint of wonder in his voice. 

“Yeah. What about him?”

“Well, it’s just kind of… I don’t know. He was the first born of Adam and Eve. So technically he was the first human ever born.” Sam explained.

“Huh. Never really thought about that.” Dean said with a shrug, grinning a little at the look on Sam’s face. Despite being a demon and the father of murder, Sam’s geek side was making a big time appearance over Cain. 

After a few minutes of silence with Dean noticing Sam opening and closing his mouth a few times, Dean huffed in annoyance. “You got something to say, Sam?” Dean asked. He tensed a bit when Sam’s look went from geeked out to suspicious pretty quickly.

“Okay, so what’s the deal with you and Cain?” Sam asked. “You seemed pretty chummy.”

Dean just shrugged again. “I guess.”

Dean could see Sam purse his lips, one hand curling into a fist at his side in frustration. “ _ Dean!” _

Dean jumped, startled. “What the hell, Sam?”

“He hugged you.” Sam spat out. “And so help me god, Dean, don’t just sh—“

Dean shrugged.

“—rug.” Sam finished through gritted teeth. 

Dean tried to grin at Sam. This conversation went sideways quickly and bitch face #14 was firmly in place. 

“What do you want me to say, Sam? It’s only the third time I’ve met the guy.”

“Okay, so how did he get the band?” Sam pushed. 

Dean sighed. “Demons were getting killed and Crowley sent me to take care of it. Turns out it was Cain. He got the urge to kill back.” He explained shortly.

“So, you what, just gave him the band?” Sam asked incredulously.

“No, I didn’t ‘just give him the band.’” Dean was starting to get agitated. “I was going to kill him, but… I don’t know, I didn’t want — It was my fault anyway, so I offered him an alternative.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Your fault?”

“Cain resisted the Mark for a long time. Then I come kicking up trouble about the blade. I sent him down that path. It was on me.”

“Okay… And?” Sam asked. He was clearly looking for more, but for what, Dean didn’t know. 

“And what, Sam? That’s it. I gave him the band, showed him how to use it, and I never thought I’d see him again until he showed up.”

“Uh huh.” From his peripherals, Dean could see Sam’s mouth twisting up in suspicion. 

Dean just shrugged again, and this time, Sam twisted his whole body toward Dean, frustration and anger clear on his face. 

“Dean! He got you out of your deal. That’s-that’s huge, man! And what the fuck was with the hug? I mean, it’s Cain! Father of murder? Knight of Hell? And he just happened to fucking hug you?”

Dean started to shrug again but thought better of it. He was afraid actual smoke would come out of Sam’s ears at this point.

“And your point?” Dean asked. He kept his voice calm, hoping and attempting to try and diffuse the situation. 

“Really? My point… My point is, what does he want? Why did he help you? And why did you two seem so… I don’t know, close?” Sam spat out.

Geez. After everything Sam had admitted to just a few hours ago, Dean couldn’t help but think of how Sam sounded jealous again.

“I don’t know, Sam.” Dean said stiffly. Because he actually didn’t know. “Cain showing up and helping me out was a surprise to me as well.”

Sam huffed, side eyeing Dean. He clearly wasn’t believing that Dean was telling him everything. 

Meanwhile, Dean let his thoughts wander. Why  _ did _ Cain help him out? Maybe he was just one of those guys who didn’t like to owe people? However, Cain had said they were connected since the very beginning, and Dean definitely felt it when they hung out for those few days. 

Thinking about that inevitably led Dean back to thinking about Crowley. His knuckles went white as he gripped the steering wheel hard, Dean desperately trying to push the sadness that swept through him away. But Sam had been watching Dean, and his little overgrown brother noticed the shift in his mood.

“What?” Sam asked.

“Nothin.” Dean answered swiftly. He internally cursed as a few tears sprang to his eyes. 

“Are you... are you upset? About…” Sam went silent, eyes narrowed as he tried to figure out what was going on in Dean’s head. The only possible answer he came to wasn’t one he liked. “Crowley?” Sam asked, his tone ripe with disbelief and shock. 

Dean kept silent. He didn’t really know how to explain it to Sam, and he wasn’t really sure he wanted to try, either. This whole conversation had shifted from zero to a hundred and eighty, and not knowing how Sam was going to react next just made Dean wish that Sam would drop it. 

“Look, I get it.” Sam suddenly said, trying to sound supportive. 

Now it was Dean’s turn to look at Sam incredulously. “What do you mean, you get it?” Dean asked.

“Hey, I had feelings for a demon too, remember? I know what’s it's like to care about something evil because they happen to be there for you when you had no one else.”

Dean heard Sam. Oh, he heard him alright, and he wished he hadn’t when he felt rage sweep through him faster than the sadness had. He jerked Baby’s wheel, coming to a screeching halt on the side of the road. 

“What the hell?” Sam exclaimed, holding onto the dash. 

Dean flung the car in park and turned toward Sam, the Mark a pulsing, throbbing ache on his arm. He pointed his finger at Sam. 

“Do not,  _ ever _ , compare my situation to that evil shank!” Dean yelled. 

Sam put his hands up, shocked by Dean’s response. “Hey, calm down, Dean. I’m just saying—“

“There is  _ nothing _ similar about the two.” Sam started to open his mouth to argue, but Dean raised his finger again, threateningly.

“No, Sam. Don’t even start. I had nobody, and Crowley was there for me. It is not the same thing.”

Sam sputtered. “I had nobody and Ruby was there for me!”

“You had nobody? Really, Sam?” Dean spat. Sam had the gall to look at Dean like he lost his mind.

Dean grit his teeth and slammed his left hand over the Mark. He really needed to up the band, but he was too angry to pay much attention to anything else right now. 

“Sam, you were never alone. You  _ chose _ to be alone. When Ruby first started hanging around you, I was there, and I warned you and told you to stay away, over, and over, and over again. I told you she was bad news, but it didn’t matter ‘cause ‘you knew best.’”

Dean made a cutting motion with his hand when Sam went to open his mouth again, swiftly shutting him up. “And when I went to hell? You had Bobby. You know, the guy who was more of a father to us than Dad ever was, but you  _ chose _ to walk away from him, hell, ran from him and hid so you could cuddle up with that demon bitch. You had Ellen and Jo. But no, you  _ made _ the decision to be alone. And then I came back and you  _ fucking had me, Sam _ !” Dean yelled, slapping his hand against his chest. “But it didn’t matter. You lied, and snuck around, and in the end, you chose  _ her _ .” Dean finished, his voice cracking with emotion. 

“I was addicted!”

“You got addicted after you chose to drink her blood in the first place. I was there by that point, Sam. Like I said, you could have come to anyone of us before it got so bad. So, no, Sam, that. Was all you.

“As for me? I had no one. You disowned me, Cas disappeared, I was dealing with the Mark, and Crowley was there for me. He saved my life twice when it would’ve been better for him if I died and became a demon. But he didn’t let that happen. Granted, he was a wily bitch after all, but he still could have let me go dark side, and he fucking didn’t. So, no. It is most definitely not the same thing. At. All.” Dean snarled. 

Sam still had that stubborn look of defiance on his face, the one that he got when he was convinced Dean was wrong and he was right. Dean took a deep breath, and just like that, the rage disappeared, and the hurt was back.

“Sam, if you had ever, even when things were at the lowest point for us, asked me to choose between you and Crowley. What do you think my answer would’ve been?”

Sam stayed silent but his face paling was an answer of itself.

“I would have chosen you, Sam every damn time.” Dean said, his voice cracking. “You know it, and…” Dean stopped talking, but the rest of the unspoken sentence was thick in the air between them. 

_ You wouldn’t have ‘cause you never did. _ Over and over again, throughout their lives, Sam never chose Dean. 

Dean cleared his throat and put the car back into drive, easing back onto the road. He was upset that he let things get so heated when they have finally found themselves in a better place. He didn’t know, was unsure where they were now.

“So, yeah. I’m gonna miss him.” Dean admitted after a few minutes. “And if that makes me weak, well. Ain’t like it’s a big news flash there.” Dean added softly. Sam winced. It hurt to hear Dean calling himself weak, especially knowing that he’d only contributed to that. 

“So…” Dean said, then stopped. Sam raised his eyes and looked at Dean with his eyebrows raised questioningly. Dean gave an exaggerated shrug, causing Sam’s mouth to quirk into a small smile, the tension lifting ever so slightly. 

“So, you gonna beat me up again?” Dean asked. 

“What? No!” Sam stuttered, and then huffed out a small laugh when he saw Dean grin.

“I mean you could try, but you know…” Dean teased. He was willing to let the harsh truths fade into the background in the interest of peace, and not ruining the small steps they had made to getting their relationship on track again. 

Sam finally flashed him a smile. “Jerk.”

“Bitch.” Dean shot back without hesitation. He leaned forward and turned up the music, settled back in his seat. 

Sam sat back, glad the tension was gone, but his mind was left reeling in the revelations that had been brought to light in anger. At least Dean was talking and not burying it, although he was pretty sure those thoughts had been simmering in Dean’s brain for a long, long, time.

The thing is, Dean was right. A few months ago, Sam would have screamed and yelled and dismissed Dean’s version of the events, but now? Now that he had a better control on his anger and responses — because again, he had learned something after all this — Sam was filled with guilt. How many times had Sam chosen things, people, hell, even places, over Dean, time and time again? And Dean always stood by him. But the first time Dean really fucked up and hurt Sam, Sam turned his back and cut him off. Fuck, he was a spoiled brat. 

Yet once again, Dean was here after everything that happened, after everything Sam did wrong, always willing to put Sam’s needs first. And so yeah, he’s a spoiled brat, and he’ll take it. He was going to do whatever he can to make things right and let Dean know that Sam would always choose Dean from now on. Sam knew it would take something big for them to get back to where they used to be all those years ago, when Sam vowed to save Dean from his deal and meant it with his entire being. For now, he was just thankful Dean was willing to try after everything. 

For the life of him, Sam couldn’t stop the wide grin that split his face at that positive note. So he turned his head toward the door and scooted down like he was going to sleep to hide it. After a mere thirty minutes or so of listening to Dean’s music and the comforting sound of Baby’s rumbling, Sam drifted and did just that.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> some fluff between Dean and Cas and then Dean comes clean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi this chapter is just a little fluff before we deal with some bad stuff. See end for trigger.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean slammed the book shut in frustration. He couldn’t find out anything about Dream Guy. What good was there in having the biggest known collection of supernatural information under one roof, when Dean could never find out about things that mattered? They had nothing on the Mark, and now, nothing on a being that could invade dreams, was super powerful, and had purple eyes. 

Dean rubbed the bridge of his nose, just as he caught a whiff of a delicious scent. He looked up as Sam and Cas came in, carrying a big bowl of buttery popcorn and a six pack of beer. 

“What’s all this?” Dean asked as he tried to grab some popcorn, but Sam just grinned and held it above Dean’s head. 

“Movie night.” Sam replied. He set the things down on the coffee table next to the couch Dean had been sleeping on the few nights since he’d been back. Dean couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his old room yet, and sleeping in a guest room felt wrong too. So Dean had camped out on the couch. He knew it bothered Sam, who didn’t understand what the issue was, and Cas just looked at Dean sadly, but at least he’d made the effort and said whatever made Dean comfortable was fine. 

Three horrors movies later, Sam was off to bed and Dean had found himself with his head practically in Cas’ lap, his cheek pressed onto Cas’s thigh as he dozed. When the silence made Dean open his eyes, he started to get up. Cas just put a hand on Dean’s head, pressing him back down. 

“Cas?” Dean asked, confused.

“You’re fine, Dean.” Cas said. “I’m just going to read for a bit.”

Still mostly asleep, Dean mumbled an “ _ okay _ ,” and was back asleep within seconds. 

When Dean finally crawled his way back to consciousness, he surprisingly felt really good. He was warm and comfortable, and a hand was running through his hair. Dean would have purred if he was a cat. It registered that his head was still in Cas’ lap, albeit now turned the other way so Dean’s face was practically pressed against the angel’s stomach. The realization snapped Dean fully awake. It took a lot for him not to jerk away and jump off the couch. Instead, he lifted his head and looked up into Cas’ blue eyes which were smiling down at him. Dean slowly got into a seated position and stretched. God, he felt  _ amazing _ . 

“How long was I asleep?” Dean asked Cas. 

“About seven hours.” Cas replied, marking his page and stretching himself. 

Dean jerked back in shock. Seven hours? Had he really slept for seven hours straight, with no nightmares and no visits from Dream Guy? Dean couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d slept that long — and that deeply, too. 

Dean started to grin, but then realized he had kept Cas sitting on the couch for seven frickin’ hours.

“Oh man,” Dean said, feeling like shit now. “I’m so sorry. Cas, you should have just pushed me off of you. I didn’t mean to make you stay sitting up all night.” Dean stammered. A blush stained his cheeks when he thought again of cuddling up to the angel. It was similar to when Cas had held Dean after Dream Guy had attacked him and Cas’ grace chased him away.

Cas just tilted his head at Dean, his brow furrowed in confusion. “Dean. I don’t sleep.” Cas stated in a matter of fact tone.

Dean snorted a laugh. “I know, buddy. But you didn’t—“ Cas just waved him quiet.

“It was fine, Dean. I could read here just as well as in my room or at the war table, which is how I usually spend my nights. I was comfortable.” Cas added with a shy grin. Dean wanted nothing more than to grab Cas right then and there and kiss him. 

He was actually starting to lean forward before he remembered why that was such a colossally bad idea. Dean always knew the angel was too good for him, and after what happened with Crowley and everything else, it was cemented in stone. He couldn’t taint something so pure and wonderful. So bearing that thought in mind, Dean just laughed slightly and patted Cas’ shoulder as he walked by to go take a shower.

“Thanks, buddy.” Dean said. He walked away, missing the sad, resigned sigh.

The next night found Dean jerking awake.

The night after that, Dream Guy walked into the room. He approached Dean, coming so close, and just as he went to grab Dean, white light filled the room. Dean woke up to find Cas sitting down on the couch next to Dean.

“Are you okay?” Cas asked with concern, his hand still on Dean’s arm, fingers splayed to fit perfectly against his faded scar. Dean missed that scar so much. It was times like this that he almost begged Cas to make it noticeable again. He knew it was still there under his skin. However, he couldn’t see it anymore, and it always led to a feeling of disappointment whenever he looked at the bare skin.

“Cas… what are you doing here?” Dean mumbled.

“I felt your distress,” Cas said simply. “What were you dreaming about?” Cas asked. 

Dean froze in indecision. He didn’t want to tell them about Dream Guy. However, he was still getting nowhere with his research. At the same time, he was trying to make things better... and keeping secrets probably wasn’t a good idea.

“I’ll tell you in the morning, Cas. When Sam is here, okay?” Dean stated. He couldn’t help but grin when Cas’ face lit up with a wide, gummy smile. 

“Of course, Dean.” Cas said. And promptly continued to stare at Dean, not moving.

Dean cleared his throat now becoming uncomfortable. “Uh. Cas… I’m awake. You-you don’t have to stay here.”

Cas just shook his head. “Dean, you were only asleep for half an hour. Last night, you maybe got about two hours of sleep.”

“How do you know? Actually — wait, you know what. It doesn’t matter. Though I appreciate the concern, buddy.” Dean said. He started to sit up, but Cas just grunted in reply. He used the momentum of Dean trying to get up to shift him, and with a few tugs, Dean found himself the little spoon with Cas’s chest plastered to his back, both of them lying horizontal on the couch. 

“Cas? What are you doing.” Dean asked. He knew he needed to get up… but his body betrayed him and didn’t move. If anything, he only snuggled down deeper into the cushions, shifting slightly so he could press against Cas more. 

“Go to sleep, Dean.” Cas replied. The arm across Dean’s stomach tightened, emphasizing his words, before eventually loosening again, letting Dean breathe… if he could.

He stayed tense, his mind racing when Cas lifted his head and looked down at Dean. “I’ll admit that this would be more comfortable in a bed, but I respect your decision to stay out here. However, you sleep better when I’m here, Dean. So just go to sleep.” Cas demanded softly. He then put his head back down, disappearing out of Dean’s line of sight.

Dean gradually relaxed his muscles, because Cas was right. He kept the nightmares away, and more importantly, he kept the Dream Guy away. And Dean would deny it to anyone and everyone that he fell asleep with a smile on his face, soft puffs of breath from Cas warm against the back of his neck. 

After that, it became the norm whenever Cas was staying at the bunker. He’d stay with Dean when he slept. Dean loved it and felt guilty at the same time, but he was weak. There wasn’t anyone around who’d argue the fact, so he let it continue. 

And Dean was shocked. Even after coming clean about Dream Guy to Sam and Cas, and even though he didn’t go into detail, the gist of the interactions were understood. And now they both knew Dean was facing another perverted monster. It was difficult to admit what had been happening. Sam had gotten so angry. Dean almost left at that, thinking the anger was directed at him. For some reason, he stayed put, and he was glad he did, because it became clear pretty quickly that he wasn’t who Sam was angry at this time. No, Sam was angry that Dean was going through something like this in the first place. He asserted that he didn’t think any less of Dean because of it. 

On the other hand, Cas… Cas had stood up and quickly left the room. At the stricken look on Dean’s face, Sam reassured him to let Cas be for a little bit. And sure enough, Cas came back about an hour later, his grace slowly healing his bruised hands. Dean’s eyes shot to Sam’s slightly smug look, and Dean felt that ache inside him again. It was a reminder that his brother and Cas were so close, and Dean was now on the outside. Sam must have noticed something in his expression and raised a brow questioningly, but Dean just shook his head. He grabbed at Cas’s wrist, bringing Cas’s knuckles to the light, and apologized. 

“Dean, stop.” Cas shut him off. “You did nothing wrong. I was just angry and—“ Cas shot a glare at Dean when he opened his mouth to apologize again. “At whoever is  _ hurting _ you, Dean.” Cas finished.

Overcome with emotion, Dean felt tears gather in his eyes. For Cas to still, after everything, care enough about Dean to get this upset… Dean just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. It was enough that he was tearing up in the first place like some damn chick, but he wasn’t gonna go around broadcasting the fact.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only trigger is implied non-con.


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's past comes back to haunt him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I have two long chapters tonight. Please take note of the tags. I added some but we got lots of triggers here. The worst is in italics and I put +++++ before and after that section if you want to skip it. I will put a summary at the end. 
> 
> Thank you for leaving kudos and commenting. 
> 
> We have a few rough chapters coming up so hang on.

Cas came into the room, a furious look on his face.

“What’s up, Cas?” They both asked. Dean glared at Sam, who just grinned back. His brother definitely didn’t look the slightest bit abashed at having spoken at the same time as his big brother.

“Angels are disappearing.” Cas stated, causing the brothers' attention to return to him. 

“Yours?” Dean asked. He was relieved when Cas shook his head. Not that he gave a rat’s ass about those dicks with wings, but if Cas had lost some of his army,  _ he _ would be devastated, and  _ Dean  _ would’ve felt bad about that.

“No. It’s Metatron’s angels right now. Around ten of them.” 

“Okay, that sucks… but how is that your problem?” Sam asked and Dean nodded in agreement.

“Sam. Dean. Angels are disappearing. That makes it my problem, whether they are mine or Metatron’s.” Cas said. Although he wasn’t one to use the word, the brothers could practically hear the unspoken “ _ duh,” _ at the end of the statement.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look just as Dean had a nasty thought.

“They don’t think you had anything to do with it… do they?” Dean asked. His stomach tightened at the expression on Cas’ face. Dean hit it right on the money, judging by the look. 

“Some do. I need to figure out what is happening and stop it.” Cas said. He was already gathering up his notes and pushing things into his bag.

“Okay, Cas” They simultaneously replied. Dean shot Sam a look of exacerbation, even going so far as to throw his hands up in the air.

_________

Castiel was sitting at the table, waiting for Sam and Dean. Sam had gone to the restroom, and Dean had gone to get them drinks. Castiel looked at his watch, wondering where Hannah was. She was supposed to meet him here so they could all investigate the disappearance of Metatron’s angels. 

Castiel looked over at the bar and smiled as he watched Dean order and talk with the bartender while he waited for his drinks. It was so good to have him back again. Castiel knew there was a lot unsaid between him and Dean, but the fact that Dean was turning to Castiel for help sleeping… things were slowly getting back to the way they were before. However, Castiel had to admit he wanted more from Dean. The feelings that rose within him when he thought he lost Dean, and then thinking and picturing him with Crowley made Castiel realize he wanted  _ more _ . 

Castiel let his mind wander, inadvertently hearing the conversation between two guys sitting behind him at a table. He frowned when he heard what they were talking about. 

“You sure he’ll be here?” Voice One asked.

“Yeah. Brad heard it from his friend, Abe, who heard it from Garth. It’s angels after all, of course he’ll be here.” Voice Two said with a sneer. The mention of angels caused Castiel to absently straighten, paying more attention. These two were either hunters, or had something to do with the disappearing angels. 

“It’s been so long… I wonder what he looks like now.” Voice One mused. 

“Oh, I bet he’s still gorgeous. From everything I’ve gathered from other hunters, I don’t think we’ll be disappointed. Man, it has been so long.” Voice Two agreed with regret.

“Yeah. Sucks that his father cut us off. Wasn’t really fair. He said to make sure he was punished real good! We just did what he asked.” The two snickered..

“At least we have the videos he sold us. Better than nothing.”

“Mm. Watching that twink get whipped, fucked, and everything else – oh, especially when his father was the one doing it? Sure is something to see. I still watch the videos, actually lost count how many times I’ve seen ‘em.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Voice One said with a clear grin audible in his voice.

Castiel had to stop himself from turning around and smiting these two horrible humans. He remembered Dean saying a few times, “ _ monsters, I get, but humans are crazy _ .” Now, listening to these two men, Castiel could certainly agree. Despite them being humans, he would still have to do something about them. He continued to listen to the jeers, sneers, and comments, and Castiel couldn’t fathom the amount of suffering of whoever it was they were talking about had gone through, although, it did seem to have happened a long time ago. Regardless, Castiel would like to figure out just who they are talking about after this angel mess was dealt with, if at least to make sure that the poor soul was in a better place. 

Castiel heard them get up and turned around, but he wasn’t quick enough to see their faces – just the identical camo vests they were wearing. He went to get up and follow them, but right at that moment, his phone vibrated as Hannah called. Coming to a halt, he regretfully stared at their retreating backs with disdain as he answered his cell.

By the time he got off the phone, he had lost track of them. 

_____________

Dean froze in the loud bar, icy dread shooting through his body, his skin going as cold as the beers in his hand. His vision narrowed to pinpoint flashes. Sam smiling and greeting the hunters. The two muscular men, Jeff and Joe smiling back. Joe’s hand slapping Sam’s shoulder. Joe nudging Jeff… their gazes turning towards Dean. Dean, who was standing frozen in terror. 

Somebody bumped into Dean. Standing still and rigid, the small collision in the middle of a crowded bar was enough to cause him to stumble.

+++++++++++

_ Dean stumbled, his feet trying to find purchase on the rocky walkway as John dragged him toward the house. His balance was limited with his hands tied tightly behind his back. His stream of constant “no” and “please” muffled behind the gag as he fought with everything he had to avoid being pulled along. Pain radiated through his shoulders as John forcefully slammed him against the house in frustration.  _

_ “Stop fucking fighting me, Dean. It’s a done deal, so suck it up. I’m done with all this bullshit. You’d think me pounding your ass last night would’ve taken some of the fight out of you…” John sneered, grasping Dean’s chin harshly and forcing him to look in his eyes. John’s eyes were hard and furious, Dean’s pleading and scared. _

_ “Buf y’ff pr’mifed,” Dean tried to say. He quickly stopped trying to talk when John grinned. John always did get off on gagging Dean, as if Dean could forget that when John ground his hard cock into Dean’s hip. _

_ “Yeah, I promised. But you promised to watch your brother, and then what happened? Huh, Dean? Sam was gone for  _ two _ fucking weeks. You’re lucky it’s only a weekend. I’d leave you here for the full two weeks if I thought you would survive it.” _

_ John wrapped a hand around Dean’s throat. “But when you’re done here, I’m gonna teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” John promised. The terror of that threat almost ellipsed the terror that awaited him behind those doors.  _

_ “Now, come on, you worthless whore.” John sneered, jerking Dean away from the wall and dragging him again. Just as they reached the door, it swung open to reveal a snickering Jeff and Joe as John tried to wrangle Dean who was back to fighting with everything he had.  _

_ “Having some trouble, John?” Jeff laughed. He caught a hold of Dean before he could fall after John practically threw him into the house. Dean continued to fight, snapping his head back, narrowly missing breaking Jeff’s nose. That was when John lost his patience. He slapped Dean hard across the face, shocking him enough to momentarily stop his struggles. Joe grabbed Dean and held him tight with arms across his chest, squeezing the air out of him.  _

_ “What’s all this, Deanny? You’re not happy to be here?” Joe chuckled as Dean squirmed.  _

_ “Dean!” John yelled. Dean’s gaze automatically snapped up. “Enough!” Dean glared back defiantly, and continued to struggle.  _

_ “Okay, you win, Dean.” John said, seemingly in defeat. Dean froze, looking up at John with hope. _

_ He couldn’t be here with these two for another weekend. The last one was so bad, it took Dean  _ weeks _ to recover, which in turn pissed John off more because Dean couldn’t hunt with him – despite the fact that John was the one who sold Dean to these sadistic assholes in the first place – which then made John beat him, which in turn delayed his healing. _

_ It was a horrible time. John had promised he wouldn’t sell Dean to them again as the down time hadn’t been worth the money, but here Dean was again, looking at their fat leering faces.  _

_ John looked at Jeff. “Sorry about this. It’s gonna take me an hour to go home and grab Sam and be back.”  _

_ Joe whined, saying something about how he didn’t want Sam, he wanted Dean while Jeff just shushed him, watching Dean’s face with a smirk. _

_ Dean was frozen in disbelief. As soon as he could get his mind working again, he started to violently shake his head.  _

_ “Now what’s the matter, Dean? I already spent the thousand dollars they’re paying me for your slutty ass. If you’re gonna continue acting like a brat, well then, Sam’s gonna have to take your place.” _

_ Dean ripped himself from Joe’s arms, screaming behind the gag. “No, no, no, nononono–” he fell to his knees in front of his father, wide, frightened eyes pleading with John.  _

_ “Fine. But if I hear anything about you trying to run off this weekend, then…” John said, leaving the threat unspoken.  _

_ Grinning, Joe grabbed Dean and pulled him away from John and Jeff. Dean was no longer struggling, so he missed the wink John gave Jeff. The men knew John’s threat of getting Sam was empty. Everyone in the hunting community knew how much John doted on Sam, and no one would dare even breathe wrong on the boy; Dean, on the other hand, well… that was a whole different story.  _

_ John took the wad of cash, and after one last glare at Dean, left. _

_ “Deannnn.” Joe called in a sing song way. His breath was hot and moist against Dean’s ear. “Ready to have some fun? Huh, Dean?”  _

_ “Dean!” _

“Dean!”

Startled out of the memory, Dean jerked his gaze to Sam who was gesturing Dean over. Walking slowly, his entire body shaking, Dean fought to erase all the emotions from his face.

+++++++++++++++

Sam frowned at the strange expression on Dean’s face. He looked, for a second, like he was absolutely terrified. But then just as quickly, the look was replaced by Dean’s classic, blank look. Sam wondered why Dean felt the need to hide his emotions in true Winchester style, but he mentally waved the thought away – being around other hunters always did make the both of them a little nervous.

Sam watched as Dean approached, his eyes never left the two hunters who were leering – no, wait. That couldn’t–wasn’t right. They were just looking at Dean as he finally joined them. Only Sam noticed how it looked like his brother had been dragging his feet the entire time, like he was walking through thick, unrelenting mud. 

“Nice to see you again, Dean.” Joe said. Sam frowned again as the hunter’s eyes traveled the length of Dean’s body.

_ What the hell was up with that? _ Sam was starting to feel uncomfortable, but the question was answered in the next second when Joe and Jeff both commented about how grown up Dean looked, compared to the last time they’d seen him.

His brother ignored them. “Sam, I didn’t know you were friends with these guys.” Dean said. He was trying to sound casual, but Sam picked up on something in his tone. He just wasn’t sure what it was. 

“Yeah, it’s been a long time, but you remember that time you got really hurt after a hunt and spent about ten days in the hospital, you know, after…” Sam hesitated for a second. “Flagstaff.” He said stiffly, aware of the other hunters’ presence. As if that would take away the sting from bringing that up. 

Dean’s face hardened and – yup. Sam definitely regretted bringing it up instantly.

“So they came by a few times to visit when you were laid up.” Sam explained, blinking at the rage that flashed across Dean’s face. Again, it was gone just as quickly as it came.

_ Okay, what the hell _ ?

“That’s right. Heard about you being in the hospital and came by a few times to check on John and Sammy boy here.” Jeff said, grinning.

“Huh.” It was all Dean said through gritted teeth. Sam didn’t think it was possible, but Dean’s eyes hardened even more. Sam glanced at Jeff and Joe. They seemed to be… enjoying the look on Dean’s face? Jeff smirked one more time at Dean and then turned to Sam.

“So, Sam. Know it’s been a while, but still gotta say – sorry about your dad.” Sam merely nodded in response. 

Jeff leaned in, almost whispering as he lowered his voice to speak into Sam’s ear. “So, you the guy we need to talk to now? My pops had a pretty big insurance plan, so money ain’t an issue. Maybe we can work something out?” Jeff asked. 

Sam frowned in confusion, and then jumped when Dean spat out a loud “ _ No! _ ” Sam looked at Dean with wide eyes, completely dumbfounded.

“Dean?” Sam asked, confused.

“Sam, Cas is calling you over. Take the beers.” Dean ordered, already thrusting them into Sam’s hands and gesturing him away. Still confused, but already wondering what Cas needed, Sam turned and went back to the table.

Dean breathed a little easier after Sam left. However, he was still on edge, and sweating with nerves. It was ridiculous; he’d stood up to mythological creatures, gods, demons, angels, and even hell, but the fear these two hunters instilled in Dean made him feel like a teenager again.

“That was rude, Deanny.” Joe said with a leer. “We just wanted to make a deal. You certainly grew up good.” Joe tried to reach out to touch Dean’s face. Dean tried to take a step back, only for Joe to take a step forward, keeping the almost nonexistent distance between them the same. 

“No.” Dean gritted out. His hand flew to the back of his pants, unnoticed, to grip the First Blade. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Joe snarled. He went to grab Dean again, but Jeff held him back. He muttered a quiet, “no” himself.

“Joe, let’s go.” His words clearly startled Joe, and enough so that he let himself be pulled along.

It took everything in Dean to not pull out the First Blade and start hacking. The Mark was pulsing and burning, practically screaming in his head to  _ kill, kill, kill _ — but they were human. Sadistic, fucking rapists, but human. So Dean pushed it all down. He couldn’t do anything that would make Sam suspicious, so he stilled his shaking hands, took some deep breaths, and went to the table where Sam and Cas were waiting. 

—————

Sam sat down at the table, still trying to figure out what that whole thing was about, when he noticed Cas with a sour look on his face.

“What’s up, Cas?” Sam asked. 

Cas just shook his head. “I overhead some things I wish I had not. However, it is possible it was a lead.”

“Yeah? How so?” Sam asked, even though his eyes were trying to search Dean out in the crowd. 

“The men I overhead mentioned angels, so either…”

“They’re hunters or involved?” Sam finished. He relaxed slightly as Dean stepped into view, only for his stomach to tighten again at the look on Dean’s face. His brother looked young, and scared, and freaked out. And then just like that, Dean looked down, and when he lifted his head again, his face was completely void of any emotion.

_ Seriously, what the hell is going on? _

Dean gave them both a small smile as he sat down, but his leg was jerking up and down, up and down, up and down, and Sam watched as Dean grasped the Mark a few times. He finally just left his left hand over it, gripping his arm tight.

“You ok?” Sam asked. Dean looked up, surprised. 

“Yeah. Why?” Dean asked, guarded.

_ That was weird.  _ Sam watched Dean’s face closely, not missing his eyes widening anxiously. But the change was so minute, Sam wondered if he had perhaps imagined it. 

Dean stayed silent for a few seconds. When it became clear that Sam wasn’t going to say anything further, he stated, “I didn’t realize you knew those guys.”

“Hmm, yeah, well. Only because of the few times they’d come by. They were always friendly.” Sam said. He jumped when Dean spat out, a little too loud.

“Define friendly.” He growled. 

Sam frowned. “Friendly.” He repeated. “What’s going on, Dean?” Sam prodded.

“N’thin.” Dean mumbled, looking down again. Sam sighed in exasperation, knowing he wasn’t going to get anything further from his brother, and turned back to Cas.

“So, you were saying, Cas?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever encountered two more repulsive men.” Cas said, his face twisting up in disgust. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Dean asked, clearly not paying much attention as his eyes scanned the room. 

“I hope they are a part of this so I can smite them.” Cas added instead. His words brought a small smile to Dean’s face as he paused in his surveillance of the room to look at Cas. 

“Wow, Cas, what’s got your panties in a twist?” Dean asked. His smile widened as Cas tilted his head at the saying. 

“They were saying horrible things about what they had done to some poor boy. The only thing that makes me feel better is that it seemed to have happened years ago but…”

“But what?” Sam asked. He became concerned at how spooked the angel seemed to be. To top it off, Sam also noticed Dean’s focus was now laser sharp on what Cas was saying. His leg started to bounce even faster under the table, and both of Dean’s hands were clenched into tight fists. Sure, Sam knew Dean always got emotional when stuff involved kids, but this reaction seemed a little extreme since they weren’t even really sure what Cas had overheard.

Cas shuddered slightly, disgust evident on his face. “They were discussing how this boy was abused by his father and passed around, and then they started talking about the things they had done to him, and…” 

Sam and Cas both jumped in their seats as Dean stood up so fast his chair fell backwards. 

“Dean!” Sam called out, but Dean was already walking away.

“I need some air.” Was all they heard him mumble before he disappeared into the crowd. 

Sam looked at Cas. “The hell?”

“I don’t know,” Cas answered, his eyes following Dean. Through the crowd, they could see Dean walking out the side door of the bar. Cas’s eyes narrowed as he saw the two men with the camo vests follow Dean out.

“Sam, those… men just followed Dean outside. I think we need to go, now.”

“Okay.” He started to get up, already following the angel’s gaze. And soon as he saw Joe and Jeff disappearing through the same door, he put the pieces in his mind together with a sickening twist of his gut.

“Cas… those are the hunters Dean and I just ran into. Dean did seem spooked by them, and the conversation was all sorts of weird, but you don’t think…”

“Come on, Sam.” Cas was already walking, but the bar was so crowded, it was a slow going process as they tried to maneuver through. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include a flashback to underage forced prostitution, sexual slavery, incest. Dean is around 16. 
> 
> Dean encounters two hunters his father had sold him to who were very brutal and Dean has a flashback of when John brought Dean to them during which John threatened to get Sam to force Dean to behave.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is faced with an impossible decision. Sam sees something horrifying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi a lot of the same triggers from last chapter apply to this one, its basically one long chapter that I split in two. See notes for the end. I put ++++ around the really triggering stuff. There is not as much as last chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Dean couldn’t believe Cas had heard them talking about him. Granted, the angel hadn’t known they were talking about Dean, but still. It made Dean sick. Literally. He burst through the doors just in time to bend over gagging, but thankfully — or unfortunately — nothing came out. 

Dean stiffened as he heard a quiet chuckle behind him. “That’s a lot of gagging you’re doing there, Deanny. And my cock isn’t even down your throat yet.”

Dean spun around, eyes narrowing as he saw Joe and Jeff step through the door he’d just come out of.

“I thought you left.” Dean said through gritted teeth. His senses were on full alert, and the Mark was throbbing on his arm.

Jeff tsked with the all too familiar smirk plastered on the mug Dean wished he’d never had to see again. “You know you’re not very good at the whole ‘thinking,’ Dean.”

“Fuck you.” Dean said. He went to push past them, when hands grabbed at him. With one swift move executed fast enough that he knew he was probably a blur at that moment, he had the blade out and pressed Joe against the wall with his blade against Joe’s throat.

“Don’t. Touch me.” Dean growled, pressing the blade ever so slightly harder against Joe’s skin.

“Wow. Your reflexes are pretty impressive.” Jeff said. Dean frowned because he sounded calm, almost smug. Dean’s eyes flickered over to him, eyes landing on the phone Jeff was wiggling in his hand. 

“You’re gonna want to let him go, Deanny. Now.” Jeff demanded when Dean didn’t move. 

“Oh, yeah? Why would I want to do that?” Dean sneered in return, turning his attention back to Joe.

“ _ +++++++++++++++++ You’d think me pounding your ass last night would’ve taken some of the fight out of you. _ ”

++++++++++++

Dean gasped and stepped back, arm falling limply to his side. He turned to Jeff in shock as he heard his father’s voice.

“No, no, no.” Dean repeated. He looked closer at the screen despite the blackness creeping in from the corners of his vision, and his stomach sank as his body started to shake when he saw the video replaying the same memory he had just re-lived when seeing Jeff and Joe again at the bar

“You have a video?” Dean asked, voice weak with disbelief and shock. 

Jeff paused it. “I do. You see, from what I gathered — and how the hell it’s possible, I’ll never know — but Sam doesn’t seem to know about any of this.”

“Don’t, don’t you dare.” Dean threatened, but his voice was still a whisper. He hated himself for showing weakness, but Sam couldn’t — he just couldn’t find out. 

Jeff’s smarmy smile grew wider. Dean tensed, ready to strike out, but Jeff stopped him by hitting play again. 

“ _ When you’re done here, I’m gonna teach you a lesson…” _

“Stop it.” Dean said. He forced himself to keep standing tall, even though every inch of him was begging to run away like the pathetic coward he was as Joe moved closer. 

“Here’s the deal, Deanny.” Jeff said, his face full of menace. “This here video, along with many others—”

“You have more?” Dean blanched. His mind started to race, trying to figure out which ones they could possibly have, and how damaging they would be, but it didn’t matter. Any one of them could reveal his shameful secret.

“Oh, yeah. John might not have let us have you again, but he had no problem selling us videos of you and him, and you, and, well. Everyone. Jeff said, and Joe started snickering with him. 

“So, listen up, boy.” Jeff said, roughly grasping Dean’s chin, forcing Dean to meet his eyes. “Do you want me to send these videos to all our hunter friends, including that nice sheriff, but most importantly, Sam?”

Dean’s mind reeled with the implications. He had to find a way to get that phone and erase the videos, but knowing them as well as he unfortunately did, they probably had a backup. They were evil, but smart — especially Jeff. And Sam couldn’t find out about any of this. The brothers had just started to feel comfortable around each other again, and this? This would destroy all of it. Sam would never want to be his brother again, would never look at Dean the same way… and he would be destroyed if he found out what a monster his father was. 

Dean tried to put on a strong face and glare back at Jeff, but it was weak, and they both knew it. Dean shook his head, not trusting his voice, yet his hand tightened on his blade.

Jeff noticed and backed away slightly, looking nervous for the first time, but even that didn’t last. “These are saved on my cloud Dean,” he said, confirming what was possibly Dean’s worst fear right now. “Destroying my phone won’t get rid of anything.” Jeff chuckled, Joe echoing the noise behind him. 

“So, after we finish up this hunt,” Jeff said, stepping closer to Dean. Their faces were almost touching, and Dean could have gagged at the smell of his rancid breath. “You’re gonna come back with us, and we’re gonna spend some quality time together.”

Dean didn’t respond for a few seconds, still in shock. He thought about what they were asking of him, and Dean didn’t think he could do it. Not after everything that had happened, with Alastair, Kate, Abaddon, and now the Dream Guy — Dean couldn’t debase himself like that again.

But he couldn’t let Sam see the video. 

“No.” Dean said. He sounded soft and pathetic, and he cursed himself wildly in his mind.

“No?” Jeff snarled. “This one’s not enough for you? Dean? Well, how about we take a look at this one? It’s one of my favorites.” Jeff scrolled a bit on his phone, before decisively tapping on the screen. Dean felt the bile rise in his throat again, sweat breaking out on his chilled skin.

_ No, no, no! This couldn’t be happening. _

++++++++++++

Dean saw himself tied to the bed and his face flushed, his eyes streaming tears.

“ _ Stop, dad, stop. _ ” His younger self whined from the phone.

_ John just snickered, turning a remote control in his hand and causing Dean to cry out. “You want to cum, Dean?” John asked. Dean started to shake his head while pulling harshly at his restraints. “No?” John asked again, even as he moved the dial in his hand up and Dean’s whole body jerked before he nodded in defeat. _

_ “Beg me.” John commanded, stroking his own cock. Dean didn’t say anything, but started to sob instead. “Beg me, Dean. You’ve had that big, fat dildo vibrating inside you for hours with your pathetic cock locked up. I know you wanna cum. I know it must hurt. So. Beg. Me.” John sneered and then he moaned in pleasure when Dean finally broke, pleading. _

_ “Please, what, slut?” John asked. _

_ “Please, dad, please, let me cum.” Dean pleaded. _

++++++++++++++++++++++++

The door to the bar flung open. Sam took in the scene before him his face tightening in anger when he saw Dean. “What the fuck is going on?” He yelled, and everyone jerked in surprise at the sound. 

Dean raised teary eyes to Sam. As if things couldn’t get any worse, now Sam was out here, and — did he hear any of this? Oh fuck, did Sam just hear Dean begging like a little bitch? Dean staggered and almost fell, but caught himself against the wall, his whole body shaking. 

“Dean? What is this?” Sam demanded, focusing on his brother and completely ignoring the other two hunters. 

“It’s none of your business, Sam. Go back to the bar.” Jeff ordered. 

Sam straightened up to his full, impressive height, looking down at Jeff. “I don’t know what the hell is going on here, but if my brother is involved, then yeah, it’s my business. You two need to leave.” Sam said. None of them moved. “ _ Now _ !”

Dean’s eyes were flickering between Sam, Joe, Jeff, and the phone, when Dean saw Joe slowly move off to the side. With his brother glaring daggers at Jeff, he didn’t notice Joe picking up a metal bar from the ground and starting to raise it behind Sam’s back. 

“No!” Dean yelled. He threw himself forward, grunting in pain when the metal collided with his arm. Dean heard a roaring sound, and his vision went gray. The Mark screamed and burned on his arm, and his fists flew. Dean felt hands pull at him, but he violently shrugged them off as he pounded Joe into the ground. When Jeff tried to come to Joe’s aide, he found himself under Dean’s merciless rage as well.

“Dean! Dean, stop it!” The voices were distant, and something in it should have made Dean pause — should have, but he didn’t, fists still flying.

Finally, strong arms grabbed him around his biceps and jerked him back, pressing Dean’s back to Cas’ chest. Dean struggled, but Cas’ arms held tight. Dean hadn’t even realized that Cas has come out here too. 

“Stop, Dean. It’s over.” Cas said, voice low and right against Dean’s ear. “Stop.”

Dean slowly came back to himself. He looked down at the two beaten up men, looked at his knuckles, bruised and bloody, and looked up and saw Sam’s face. The look he hoped to never see again, the same look Sam had on his face after the werewolf attack, when Dean went to hug Sam, and it was now the same look his brother was donning. 

It didn’t matter if Sam saw the video, Dean slowly realized, his stomach clenching before it sank. Nothing mattered anymore. Sam was afraid of him. Afraid and disgusted. 

Everything was falling apart. 

Dean’s breath stuttered. His heart clenched painfully in his chest as Dean moved away from Cas, who’d already loosened his arms the moment Dean stopped fighting him. 

“Jesus Christ, Dean. You almost killed them.” Sam muttered, horror stamped across his face.

“I don’t — he was going to hit… I—” Dean tried to collect his thoughts and when Sam stepped forward, his foot inadvertently kicked something. It was Jeff’s phone, having fallen to the ground at some point. 

Sam stared at his brother. He was scared, Sam would admit, at how Dean had pounded the other two men until they were only inches away from being splattered all over the cement. His brother was completely lost in the violence of beating them, and it took way too long for them to pull him back this time.

Sam was still not sure what he had walked into. All he knew was that he saw Joe and Jeff standing too close to his brother in a threatening way, and Dean had looked terrified, ashamed, and… resigned? 

When Sam stepped toward his brother, his foot collided with something on the ground. He reeled back in shock when he heard his father’s voice. 

“ _ Yeah, I promised. But you promised to watch your brother, and what happened? Huh, Dean? Sam was gone for  _ two _ fucking weeks. You’re lucky it’s only a weekend. I’d leave you here for a full two weeks too if I thought you would survive it. _ ”

John voice sounded tinny coming from the phone’s speaker, but the words were clear.

_ What the fuck. _ He picked up the phone and looked at the video. Its screen was showing a tied and gagged Dean being dragged by John.

“What the hell is this?” Sam cried. This better be some kind of sick, perverted joke, except, no. The look on Dean’s face was enough to tell him otherwise. Sam spun away from Dean’s attempt to grab the phone and tapped at the phone.

_ John looked at Jeff. “Sorry about this. It’s gonna take me an hour to go home, grab Sam, and be back.” _

_ Joe started to whine, something about how he didn’t want Sam, he wanted Dean, while Jeff just shushed him, watching Dean’s face with a smirk.  _

_ “What, Dean? I already spent the thousand dollars they’re paying me for your slutty ass, so if you’re gonna continue acting like a brat, well. Then Sam will have to take your place.” _

Sam gasped, watching as Dean ripped himself from Joe’s arms, screaming “ _ no, no, no _ !” behind the gag and harshly falling to his knees in front of their father, wide frightened eyes pleading with John. 

_ “Fine. But if I hear anything about you trying to run off this weekend, then…” John trailed off. _ And Sam watched that bastard, Joe, pull Dean away from John and Jeff, disappearing. 

_ “Does he really believe you would hurt Sam?” Jeff asked, laughing.  _ Sam’s brain couldn’t process what he was watching as John smiled back.

“ _ Thinking isn’t really Dean’s thing.” John said. Both men laughed. “Of course I’d never hurt Sam, but it keeps Dean in line and keeps him from leaving or telling anyone.” John said, and Jeff nodded.  _

++++++++++++++++ 

Gasping for air, his body trembling, Sam thumbed to the next video, ignoring Dean behind him as he cried something out to Sam. Sam was only skimming through, could only bare watching snippets, but even that had his stomach rolling. It was enough for him, as horror spread through his body while he flipped through videos that showed Dean being beaten, Dean being raped, Dean being whipped, Dean giving a guy a blow job as another took him from behind while John stood there egging the men on, John forcing Dean to beg, John doing unspeakable things to… to… NO, his father couldn’t — wouldn’t — and Dean…. 

+++++++++++++++++

By the time Sam had seen enough for his brain to put together that this was real, and had actually happened, and somehow Dean had suffered through this his whole childhood while Sam had remained blissfully unaware, several minutes had passed. Sam braced himself to confront his brother as too many questions needed to be answered. 

How could Dean have kept this from Sam? How could he have let that happen to him? How could his father have done this to Dean? Sam’s face twisted in disgust and horror, his memories flashing back to all the times Sam made fun of Dean for following every order John gave, about him being the perfect little soldier. All the times Dean was hurt and Sam blindly believed it was from a hunt or a bar fight. When-when it was probably….

Sam finally raised his eyes from the phone. He was surprised his heart could beat faster than seconds before, as it was doing now, as a cold wave of fear ran through Sam’s body because when Sam looked up.

Dean was gone. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include more child sexual abuse and violence.
> 
> Jeff and Joe have video of the flashback Dean had along with others which depict Dean being abused sexually and physically and also show John raping Dean. They attempt to blackmail Dean with them. Sam interrupts and Dean almost kills Jeff and Joe. Sam gets scared of Dean.
> 
> Note: From the first part of the story:
> 
> After a werewolf hunt gone wrong Dean is led to believe Sam was killed and he attacks a bunch of werewolves. He lets the Mark take control and Sam eventually stops him. Dean goes to hug Sam but Sam flinches scared at what he saw and the crazy look Dean still has.
> 
> Also when Dean was on the verge of turning into a demon his eyes would turn gray.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I hope you all had a great holiday. Sorry for posting late this week. As a present I won't leave you with the cliff hanger I was intending to at the end of this chapter and will post the next one tonight too. 
> 
> See end for triggers. 
> 
> Thank you very much for kudos and comments.

Dean watched, the world around him going in slow motion as Sam bent down and picked up the phone, his father’s voice clearly audible. No,  _ no, nonono _ . This couldn’t be happening.

Dean tried to snatch the phone away, but Sam turned around, broad shoulders blocking him even as Sam’s attention never left the screen. His entire body trembling, Dean tried again to reach around Sam and pull the phone away. Sam practically snarled at Dean.

“Fucking  _ stop _ , Dean.” He pushed Dean away, causing Dean to stumble. 

Gasping for air, his chest tight with fear and shame, Dean looked over to Cas for help. Dean shoved his fist in his mouth to stop a sob from escaping as he saw Cas’ attention was focused on the phone too. Dean must have made a noise because Cas turned to look at Dean, his eyes wide with horror. 

“They were talking about you.” Cas stated instead of asked. His voice had an odd tone, which Dean couldn’t quite place, but Dean could read the disgust and rage on his face clearly.

Dean flinched.

Dean opened his mouth to say, “ _ Cas don’t, _ ” but no sound came out. He just stood frozen as Cas walked toward Sam. Dean felt the world caving in on him. The air got too thick to breathe, his vision blurred. For his whole life, he had kept that part of it a secret, had kept the horror and abuse from Sam. Thirty something years all down the drain because of two redneck asswipes. 

Shuddering and shaking, Dean turned and watched as Jeff and Joe crawled to their feet and hobbled away, and Dean couldn’t find it in himself to care at all. So what if he had beaten them up, finally gotten to let out the helplessness and rage he had bottled up since he was a teenager, to finally hurt them like they hurt him so badly?

They had won anyway. 

As Dean heard Sam going through video after video while Cas peered over his shoulder, he heard everything like a giant echo in his head. 

_ “Fucking stop.”  _

_ “Beg me.” _

_ “They were talking about you.” _

_ “You almost killed them.” _

_ “Stop, Dean.” _

Tears streaming down his face, Dean slowly backed away.  _ Please look up, please say something, please don’t hate me, please let this be a nightmare, please, please, please,  _ Dean chanted over and over, and when he was a few hundred feet away with their backs still turned on him, Dean turned around and ran. 

He ran as memories tore through his mind. All the things he kept hidden, all the pain and humiliation his father, hunters, and faceless strangers had put him through. The all consuming fear a single glare from John would cause, his fruitless struggles to keep the peace between John and Sam that never worked. Always caught in the middle and always punished severely. Image after image, phantom pains after pain bubbled up and spewed into Dean’s mind. The box he kept so tightly locked in his head that even Cas, when building Dean back up again had left sealed, burst open and overwhelmed Dean. 

It was too much. Dean fell to his knees, his hands clasped over his ears trying to silence the voices in his head. Dean barely even noticed the woods surrounding him as he curled up. Tears were flowing freely down his face as sobs were punched out of his throat. Dean cried out in the silence. The Mark tried to fill the void, pulsing and burning as rage began to replace the despair. 

Three weeks. 

Three goddam weeks.

That was all Dean got after finally reconciling with Sam. And now he would have to watch as Sam walked – or probably ran – out of his life again and Dean couldn’t bear it. Every time Sam left, every time Sam had failed to choose Dean, it had hurt more and more, and this last time with Sam disowning him… it had broke Dean. But through all those times, there had always been a kernel of hope deep inside Dean that let him believe they would see each other again, that they would be brothers again. And they had been working their way through things again, Dean was starting to believe and hope. 

But now that hope was gone, crushed beneath his lies and shame. Sam was going to be so disgusted. He wasn’t going to ever want to see Dean again. Despite the devastation Dean felt at losing his brother for good this time, he cursed those assholes for taking John away from Sam. Sure, Sam had never gotten along with John, but he did come to admire him over the years since his death. Sam had come to terms with why John raised them the way they did, and was even glad about all the training John had forced on them. And now it was all blown up. Gone. Sam never knew his mother, and now his father’s image and memories were forever tarnished. 

It wasn’t fair, because the father John was to Sam was who he should remember. Because John loved Sam more than anything, even more than Mary, or so Dean believed. What John felt and what John did to Dean shouldn’t change that, but now Sam was going to see his whole childhood as a bunch of lies, and the only person left to blame was Dean. Dean, who let it all happen, who never said anything, who never ran, who just took it like a weak, sniveling, worthless whore.

So the rage rose, and the Mark screamed, and Dean starting hitting the tree in front of him. He picked up branches that had fallen, slamming them against the trunk, burning through the anger. After an unknown period of time, he couldn’t lift his arms anymore and his muscles were shaking and weak. Dean slumped to the ground and started to cry again. He thought it was bad to see the fear on Sam’s face when Dean had beaten those dirtbags so severely, but Dean would take that over the disgust he would see on Sam’s face now. His brother, a weak, used up whore. 

As the rage started to die away, Dean was a hollow shell of throbbing pain. He didn’t want to feel anymore, he didn’t want to keep living, but that wasn’t an option for him. The monumentally bad decision to take on this Mark now sentenced Dean to live forever when all he wanted to do was die. He wanted it all to stop. No more fear, no more guilt, betrayal or pain, no more constant fighting to not lose control.

Dean stared down at the Mark condemning him to an eternity of suffering. Moonlight glinted off the band, and an idea blossomed, egged on by the Mark whispering and pushing. 

There was a way to make all the pain, guilt, despair, and fear go away. It was right here in front of Dean, and he couldn’t find a single reason as to why he should keep resisting. It no longer mattered. Nothing mattered any longer. If Dean became a demon, it would all go away. He may or may not retain himself, but the feelings would go away. He had talked to Crowley about what to expect when he finally did turn, and had even had many discussions with Abaddon about what would happen. They had both said the same thing; he wouldn’t feel anything but pleasure and bloodlust and the need for chaos. There would be no guilt. No shame. No emotional pain. Essentially, he would be just like Sam was when he was soulless. What had he said? 

_ “I don’t care about anything.” _

With the promise of escape from all his feelings, the lure of relief from his suffering, and with the Mark a constant whisper urging Dean on, Dean slipped the First Blade underneath the band. He hissed as it cut his skin, a small stream of blood started to drip where the blade nicked his arm as he slid the blade under the tight band. 

One simple twist of his wrist was all it would take. 

Not even a twist – just a small push of pressure would get the job done. 

Dean knew deep down, had absolutely no doubt that removing the band was all it would take. With everything that had happened, with how much more powerful the Mark had become even with the band, as soon as it snapped he would turn. 

Dean’s fingers gripped the blade tightly, his hand was shaking in either anticipation or fear, Dean wasn’t sure. The Mark was urging him to do it. 

Dean started to turn the blade… 

“Dean! Stop!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include memories of past abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm.


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will Dean be stopped? Cas and Dean have a first...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi here is the next chapter. See end for triggers. 
> 
> Have a good weekend!

“Dean, don’t!” Cas yelled. 

Startled at first, not having heard Cas arrive, Dean just ignored him. He went to move the blade again. 

“Dean,  _ please _ !” Cas pleaded.

Dean sighed, but held the Blade still. “What are you doing here Cas? “ Dean asked. His gaze, however, stayed on the Mark and the Blade. 

At the continued silence, Dean finally looked up. Cas was staring at him in shock, his eyes wide with fear. “What are you doing Dean?” Cas asked softly. His hands were extended towards Dean as he moved closer to him.

Dean’s body was visibly trembling, but he didn’t move his hand or the Blade away. “Cas, you need to leave. I don’t… I’m not sure what’s going to happen when I turn. And I don’t want… I can’t hurt you.” Dean said in a whispered plea. He wished that Cas would just walk away. Honestly, he couldn’t wrap his mind around why Cas was even here in the first place. Regardless, he wasn’t going to let that stop him.

But to Dean’s frustration, Cas merely shook his head, and sat down next to Dean.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was low as he displayed, once again, how he could manage to pack an emotional punch just by saying his name. Tears yet again started to run down Dean’s face. Cas’ expression softened.

Determined to ignore Cas, Dean’s hand tightened on the handle of his Blade. Just one flick of his wrist, and the pain would be gone. Deep down, he knew he was being selfish, choosing to be a monster instead of dealing with his fucked up life and all the misery that came with it. But Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He was just. So. Done. 

Dean jerked in surprise when Cas put his hands on top of Dean’s. “Dean, please,” Cas repeated softly. A few seconds passed, neither of them breaking their intense staring.

… Who was he kidding? There was no way he could do this in front of Cas.

His grip relaxed, and Cas gently pulled the First Blade out from under the band. 

“Why, Dean? Why would you even think about doing that? You fought so hard to gain control, to not turn…” His hands were still holding onto the blade, but also Dean’s hand, Dean noticed, not making a move to let go.

Dean looked to the ground. “I’m just done, Cas. Please… just go. I don’t want to do this anymore – I can’t do this anymore,” Dean choked out, pained and desperate. He didn’t – wouldn’t – look at Cas.

“Do what, Dean?” Cas asked. He raised one hand to Dean’s face, intending to wipe away the track of tears. From the corner of his eyes, Dean saw how Cas’s eyes turned sad when Dean flinched at the touch. 

“This, Cas. Life, feeling, being…” Dean’s voice cracked. “Being me.” Dean finished. “I just can’t. Too much has happened, too much pain and darkness. I don’t have anything to live for anymore, Cas. Sammy… it’s not like he’s ever gonna want to be my brother again.”

“Dean…” Cas’s voice was thick with emotion. 

“And if I do this,” Dean went on, ignoring Cas. “I won’t feel anything anymore. When I become a demon… I won’t hurt anymore,” Dean whispered. He pressed his hand over his heart, tears falling like raindrops as he raised his eyes to Cas’s, begging the angel to understand. 

“So, Cas, please… just… go.” His fingers tightened on the Blade, but so did Cas’s grip on Dean’s hand. 

“No, Dean, I won’t ‘just go.’” Cas replied. Dean stared into Cas’s blue eyes. Closing his eyes, he muttered a curse as his fingers started to let go of the Blade, even as a part of him fought to keep a hold on it. But Cas was already moving, taking it and placing it on the ground on the other side of him, leaving him between the Blade and Dean. 

“Dean.” Cas broke the silence after letting it linger in the air long enough. “It’s going to be okay.”

Dean’s head whipped up. He looked at Cas in disbelief, frustration and anger sweeping through him. Dean clambered to his feet – stumbling slightly as the blood rushed back to his legs. Cas stood as well, reaching out to offer an arm in assistance, but Dean twisted away from him. 

“ _ ‘Okay _ ?’” Dean spat out, incredulous. “How in the fuck could it be okay, Cas? After  _ everything _ Sam just found out, everything Sam  _ saw _ ! It will  _ never _ be okay again,” Dean yelled. “Hell, I don’t even understand why you’re here! Why you’re not running in the opposite direction after what you just found out about me.” 

“And what is that, Dean?” Cas asked.

Dean huffed, part exasperation, and part anguish. “What is that? _ What is that _ ? I don’t know, Cas, maybe that I’m a worthless whore? Or how all this stuff that happened this past year or so isn’t just a fluke? That I’ve been tainted, and dirty, and wrong since I was a kid?

“Or how about the fact that there’s apparently something so wrong with me, that dad would treat me like he knew it? I mean, he loved Sam – god, did he love Sam, so, I know… I know he was capable of being a great father. So, it had to be me.” Dean hit his chest for emphasis.

“Dean, no,” Cas began, tone vehement. But Dean just scoffed.

“Really, Cas? You really think a normal person would attract this kind of attention? Really? My whole fucking life, people, monsters, demons – they take, and take, and there’s…” Dean choked on a sob. “There’s nothing left, Cas.” 

“Don’t say that,” Cas growled, his face a picture of righteous fury. 

Dean just snorted, and fuck, if he wasn’t on a roll now. “Come on, Cas, think about it. My dad and his friends, then Alastair. Kate, Abaddon, and now this dream guy – it’s always the same. And the only common denominator? Is me. I’m the one who is wrong and twisted. How can you even stand being next to me right now?” Dean asked, but he was pleading Cas, begging not just for an answer, but for the angel to grip him tight and save him once again, like he did many years ago…

If only he deserved it, then and now.

“I’m poison. I’m nothing…”

“Dean–” 

“ _ Fuck _ !” Dean screamed, slamming his hand against the tree. “My whole fucking life, I’ve kept this from Sam, hid the truth, protected him… and all for nothing.” Dean gave a self-deprecating laugh. “And we were just, maybe,  _ maybe, _ getting to a good place again. Now, it’s all over, Cas. Things will never be okay again.”

Cas tilted his head. For the first time, Dean didn’t find it adorable. He was way too worked up for that. Now, he was just aggravated that Cas didn’t seem to understand. His deepest, darkest secrets had just been laid out for Sam and Cas to see. How could that ever be okay? 

“Do you think Sam is going to blame you for this? Think less of you?” Cas asked, squinting his eyes in confusion.

Dean gaped. What the hell was Cas getting at? Dean had made a decision, he was going to turn into a demon and be free. Free from the pain, the guilt, the shame… And now, Cas was here, trying to, what, make him stop? 

_ What the fuck? _

Frustration was making Dean almost vibrate with tension. “Don’t you get it, Cas?” Dean yelled. “I’m not worth saving. I never was. I belonged in Hell! Look at everything that has happened – all the people killed because of me, all the demons and monsters taking what little was left of me after Hell.” 

Castiel looked at this beautiful, brave, extraordinary human. His grace screamed at him to do something, to take Dean’s pain away. Dean didn’t deserve this. Hell, no one did, but why his Father continually let these horrible things happen to Dean over and over again, Castiel will never understand. Especially not when his father seemed to expect so much from Dean. 

As he looked at Dean, his face splotched red with tears, his eyes dulled with pain, yet still so beautiful, Castiel struggled to find the right thing to say. Dean was the most important person in the universe to Castiel – arguably one of the most important humans, period. But how could he make Dean see what he did? 

“You’re wrong, Dean,” Castiel decided to begin with, stepping closer and ignoring how Dean flinched and stepped back in turn. He just made sure to close the distance Dean was insistent in maintaining. “You’re not tainted. You’re beautiful, even with the Mark. Your soul is the–”

“ _ Stop it _ !” Dean screamed. He shook his head in denial. “I don’t want to hear that crap, Cas, ‘cause that’s what you’re spouting. Crap. I’m just a stupid, dirty, magnet for the perverted evil,” Dean snarled out. 

“No, you aren’t, Dean,” Castiel said with force. He was aghast that Dean could even think such a thing, but he didn’t know if he could truthfully say he was surprised. Instead, he focused on refraining, if only just, from grabbing onto Dean and trying to shake some sense into Dean, as if it would work.

“Really? ‘Cause I have an actual Mark on me that says I’m evil,” Dean snarled, baring his arm in emphasis. “This – me? That’s reality. Not your, your…” Dean a gestured vaguely at Cas, trying to make his point clear about the whole, ‘bright soul’ bullshit.

Castiel took a deep breath to calm down. He may not have needed to breathe, but then again, angels were supposed to be infinitely patient. But trust this one human in front of him to change everything Cas once believed to be right. And deciding to go along with that vein – screw fate and expectations, right? – and not really knowing what else to do, he allowed his screaming grace to take some control. Without thinking, he closed the last of the space between them, and pulled Dean into a hug.

Dean struggled at first, of course he did. But Cas didn’t let up, continuing to murmur gently. Words of praise, of compliments, assurance, telling Dean how he was beautiful, smart, caring, brave… he didn’t let go for a single second, and finally, Dean melted into his arms, and started to sob.

Castiel would give anything to take away Dean’s pain. 

“Dean,” Castiel dared to say, but still kept his voice at a whisper in an attempt to not disturb the calm air that finally settled between them. “I don’t regret saving you, I will never regret saving you. What your father did, and Alastair, and all the others, none of it was your fault.” 

Dean tensed. He started to try and pull away, and Castiel let him pull back, but only a little, so he could look into Dean’s eyes.

“Please, Cas. Go. Please,” Dean whispered.

“No, not without you. You need to talk to Sam,” Castiel said. Dean jerked away, eyes widening in shock. Castiel may have let him pull free from his embrace, but he made sure to grab onto Dean’s wrists before he could take off. Through his hold, he could feel the tremors going through Dean’s body.

“Dean, it will be okay. Trust me.” Castiel said. For the longest time, Dean didn’t move. His face displayed a variety of emotions before he sighed, some of the tension slowly starting to leak out of his body.

“I’m not going to get rid of you, am I?” Dean asked, sounding resigned. 

“What do you think?” Castiel answered with a smile. Dean rolled his eyes, and Castiel felt a little better seeing some of Dean’s snark come back. 

“Alright, Cas. Nothing’s gonna be okay… but I’ll go with you.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, hiding his triumphant smirk. Together, they walked back to the bar. After confirming Sam wasn’t there though, they started to make their way back to the motel next. 

Once outside their room door, Dean froze. He couldn’t believe he let Cas talk him into coming back here. His heart was going a mile a minute. Sweat trickled down the back of his neck when he thought about talking to Sam – at seeing the inevitable look of disgust, anger, and fear on Sam’s face.

Through muted senses, Dean watched as Cas walked past him, opening the door and peeking in. He could see the lines of Cas’s back tense, and when he turned around, he didn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

Dean took a step back, and then another. He knew it. Sam didn’t want to see him. He was disgusted, ashamed, to have Dean as his brother now that he knew. So caught up in his spiraling thoughts, Dean jumped when he felt Cas’ hand on his cheek. 

“He’s in bed. His body smells strongly of liquor. I think he passed out more than he’s sleeping.” Cas said.

Guilt crashed down on Dean, because Sam wasn’t one to get drunk. He only did it when he was really, really upset – and this was all Dean’s fault. 

“Cas, I can’t,” Dean said, taking another step backwards. “I need to go.” 

He tried to turn and leave, but Cas grabbed his arm and was dragging him into his room before he could voice his protests. 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Cas said, voice rough and low. Dean stared at him with wide eyes, but then nodded and sank down onto the bed.

He was so fucking tired. 

Dean toed off his boots and flopped back onto the bed. Staring at the ceiling, his mind went over and over the night’s events. 

He turned when he felt the bed dip. Cas, stripped bare from his trench coat, suit jacket, and shoes, laid down next to him. Just like on the couch back at the bunker, Dean found himself pulled against Cas, his head resting on Cas’ chest. He sighed when Cas started running his fingers through his hair, the muscles in his body slowly relaxing. Dean tilted his head up, and like always, Dean got caught in the intense blue of Cas’ eyes as he easily met Dean’s gaze with equal ferocity.

Dean closed his eyes. He felt raw and exposed. He flinched when he felt Cas come closer, and then his eyes were flying open again, this time in shock, before slowly, ever so slowly, Dean let his eyelids flutter closed again, relishing in the sensation of Cas’s lips pressed against his own. It was a chaste kiss, but so full of emotion, that Dean felt his eyes watering yet again behind his closed lids. He didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve Cas, but god help him, he was too weak to pull away. 

“Dean,” Cas whispered. His hand stroked Dean’s face, and then he slowly guided Dean’s head back onto his chest as it was before he looked up. “Get some rest.”

He highly doubted it would be possible to get some rest, but the emotional roller coaster of the day combined with the physical abuse Dean put his body through finally took its toll, and Dean drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include talking about past abuse, suicidal thoughts (or attempt if you want to see it that way), Dean's self hatred.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gadreel has second thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi just a short one here but I didn't want to combine it with the next chapter. No triggers. 
> 
> I wish everyone a safe and very happy New Year!

Gadreel hesitated outside of Metatron’s office, the ingredient he had been sent to fetch gripped tightly in his hand. It was very rare and it made Gadreel’s grace twitch when thinking about what Metatron could be planning. He was having doubts, starting to believe he had picked the wrong side. He kept having flashes of killing Abner and Kevin… Was it all worth it? Was catering to this petty, vindictive angel really what he chose to use his chance at freedom for? 

At least, when he had been helping Dean Winchester he felt like he was doing some good. His time of hunting with Dean was very fulfilling, and he had come to really enjoy the human’s company. He had heard all the angels talk about Dean Winchester, it was so prevalent it had trickled down into the prison cells, but he was so much more than what the angels had gossiped about. The overwhelming love and loyalty he had for his brother was awe inspiring… and Gadreel had torn it all apart. Metatron had delighted in telling Gadreel about the brother’s rift and how it all stemmed from Dean’s decision to let Gadreel possess Sam to save him. Gadreel wished he could talk to Sam, give him some insight into that moment and how desperate Dean was, and that there truly was no other way. But he was the last angel either of them wanted to see. When Dean had captured him a few months earlier, he thought it was the end, and he had been strangely okay with it. But Metatron had managed to save him, and Gadreel had actually been disappointed. 

“Well? You just gonna stand out there all day?” Metatron sniped, having flung the door open with a huff.

Gadreel didn’t respond. He just walked into the office and laid the ingredient on Metatron’s desk. 

“I procured the last ingredient on your list.” Gadreel declared.

Metatron rolled his eyes. “Thank you, Captain Obvious,” he snarked.

Gadreel’s anger flared, but he pushed it down. “Can I ask, what do you need this for? And what are we going to do about our angels disappearing?” He said instead. He was very anxious to figure out what was happening to the angels under his command. He felt like a failure all over again with all their disappearances. 

“Don’t worry about them.” Metatron said waving his hand dismissively. 

“What?” Gadreel was confused. “But Metatron, they are part of your army. More might go missing.”

“No, it will be only the ten,” Metatron answered. He was clearly distracted, flipping through some pages of a book with an array of very rare and dangerous ingredients in front of him.

Gadreel felt a coldness sweep through him. He had suspected, but he shoved his doubt to the back of his mind, trying to focus on the mission and be a good second in command so he could re-establish himself with his family. But he knew it from the first disappearance and the way Metatron was so unequivocally not surprised, but now…

“You know what happened to them.” Gadreel stated, matter of factly, rather than asking.

Metatron paused in his movements, looking at Gadreel with exasperation for interrupting him.

“Yes, Gadreel. Don’t worry, it’s all part of the big picture. With every war there is collateral damage.” He said, using a tone as if he was addressing a small child. 

“Will they be returned?” Gadreel asked, trying to keep his rage and disbelief in check. Gadreel knew Metatron had managed to figure a way to harness power from the angel tablet, so angering him would lead to nothing but certain death.

“No.” Metatron said. He smiled when he found what he was looking for, and jotted down a few notes. When he looked up, he seemed surprised to see Gadreel still standing there.

“What is it now, Gadreel?” 

“Metatron, you orchestrated their disappearance. They were your angels!”

“Well,” Metatron leaned back in his chair. “You know, plot twists and…” Metatron trailed off, waving a dismissive hand. “Now, if you don’t  _ mind _ , I need to go and take the final threat off the playing field. And oh, it’s going to be so good.” Metatron chuckled darkly. With that, Metatron flew off, leaving Gadreel speechless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hold on, next chapter will be quite the ride.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One enemy makes a move and another is revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, Happy New Year! I hope it is a great year for everyone.
> 
> This is a longer chapter because a lot will happen. See end for triggers.
> 
> Thank you for comments and kudos.

Dean and Cas returned to the bar late the next morning. There were only a few people, along with Hannah and a few of Cas’ angels, and Dean paused when he saw Sam sitting at a table. His head was held gingerly in his hands, feeling the effects of last night. Dean began to tremble. He would have turned to leave if Cas hadn’t put his hand on Dean’s back and pushed him forward. 

“You have to talk to him, Dean,” Cas said, voice low. 

“Yeah…” Dean mumbled. He prayed for the ground to open up and swallow him whole – when all of a sudden, the entire bar started to shake. Dean held on a nearby chair as the few human patrons ran out of the bar. In the middle of the bar, a bright purple circle lit up on the floor. Dean flashed back to a church, reminded of a bright white light that was Lucifer rising. This was too similar to it, and Dean glanced at Sam. But Sam's face was hard, and Dean sighed when Sam refused to meet his eyes. Hurt lanced through his chest as he focused again on the lit up circle. 

His eyes widened in fear when out walked a man, broad shoulders and towering in height. He had dark hair that rivaled Sam’s in length, high cheekbones, and deep set eyes. In short, he was devastatingly handsome in an ethereal way, even with his cold eyes glowing purple – like an angel displaying grace, if not for the color. Purple wings spouted out of the man’s back, iridescent and gossamer. Shorter and more centered than angel wings, dispelling any thoughts Dean might’ve indulged in what this man exactly was. Yet, the color did nothing to take away from the raw masculine power radiating from the being. Somehow it added to it. The purple glow faded, leaving dark lavender eyes instead, which immediately focused on Dean. 

Dean backed up, in shock and fear, until he was stopped by the wall. Dream Guy stalked over to him without missing a beat. Dean was caught in his possessive gaze, but he didn’t miss the triumphant smirk across the ethereal face. 

Dream guy reached Dean and grabbed the back of his head, tilted it upward. Dean tried in vain to push him away, but he was too strong. Lips crashed down on his, and Dream Guy's eyes lit up again. 

Images bombarded Dean. The bright light of the fake UFO. The leprechaun pulling a chained Dean to court to claim his prize. Oberon, King of the Fairies, seeing Dean and claiming him for himself. 

Being locked in a golden cage. 

Oberon's visits. 

His kisses full of sweetness that made Dean ache and writhe on the bed for him while his brain screamed no, no, no.

The constant worry about what Soulless Sam was doing, and the desperate need to get back to him. The rescue coming from such an unlikely source.

All the suppressed memories, by a spell cast on him that was now broken, came flooding back as Dean's eyes widened, his breathing hitched. 

Oberon stepped back. “You remember.”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, but Dean nodded anyway. He heard Sam and Cas call out his name, but with a flick of his wrist, Oberon sent a pulse of purple energy, freezing everyone in place. 

Dean's mind finally settled as the memories sunk in. “Roderick?” Dean questioned, and Dean took a small amount of satisfaction in the anger that crawled across Oberon's face.

“You dare speak his name to me?” Oberon growled. He yanked hard on Dean's hair again, his free hand wrapping around Dean's throat. 

“What did you do?” Dean asked, worried for the friend who’d basically saved him from Oberon.

“What do you think, my beautiful hunter? I killed him.” 

Dean gasped. “But–he, he was your brother!” He yelled. He tried again to squirm free but Oberon tightened his hand around Dean's throat in warning. 

“He was a traitor.” Oberon growled, stepping closer and pressing the length of his body against Dean’s. “He took you from me, tried to take over my kingdom,” Oberon laughed darkly. “He thought I would be so devastated by losing you that he would find a way to take over. Well, I was devastated, but he miscalculated. What he did just made me angry, filled with rage and betrayal. He not only let you go on the eve of the second moon which would have bound you to me forever, but he took your memories of me.”

“Oberon, what did you do?” Dean asked. He grimaced when the hand at his throat flexed, squeezing harder before loosening again by a margin.

Oberon leaned in close, his lips almost touching Dean's. “I tore him to pieces.” Oberon said in a dark low voice. There was no regret in his dark eyes. “Him and all the rebels who sided with him.”

“You bastard!” Dean yelled. He felt the Mark start to pulse, burning red, and Dean pushed Oberon back with a strength that surprised the both of them. 

Oberon frowned, his gaze flicking to Dean's arm, but before he could grab Dean again, a voice called out.

“Oberon, King of the Fairies. To what do we owe this unexpected visit?” Metatron's voice rang out, before the angel himself stepped forward, drawing everyone’s attention onto him. 

Oberon turned to face him. With a look of promise and a smirk at Dean, Oberon stalked towards the angel, stopping a few feet away. Then he smiled, taking a seat and surveying the room. Dean stood, frozen in place as more memories continued to trickle into his brain, but he gradually took in his surroundings. Cas and Sam were slowly making their way over to Dean. Cas's angels stood ready to strike. And Metatron walked further into the room, followed by nine of his own angels. 

Everyone was collectively waiting for Oberon's answer. “Well, I was summoned obviously,” Oberon said with a smirk, his eyes finding Dean's again. 

“So, you’re the cause of my angels going missing,” Metatron said. 

Oberon just nodded, his gaze reluctantly leaving Dean's.

“Who broke the treaty between heaven and your kind? Who dared to summon you?” Hannah cried out.

“Yes, do tell,” Metatron said, his voice oily with fake concern. “What were you tasked to do and what was your prize?”

Oberon stared at Metatron for a moment, his disgust for the angel clear across his face, but then his gaze swung over to Cas. 

“I was summoned to help end a war. To give one side an advantage by weakening the other army.” Everyone gasped as all eyes swung to Castiel, whose eyes narrowed.

“I did not summon you,” he growled out.

Oberon just quirked a brow. “Oh, I almost forgot,” his face smoothed out as he reached into his pocket. “Here is your other request,” he pulled a vial swirling with blue fire out. Standing, he took a step towards Castiel and threw it on the ground. Grace swirled in the air, and as Castiel gasped in surprise and denial, his grace rushed down his throat. 

The bar shook again. Glasses broke, chairs fell over, and a bright light erupting into existence caused Dean to close his eyes. When he opened them again, he saw Cas looking beautiful and regal with his wings spread wide behind him. Holy shit, Dean could see Cas' wings – and not just the shadows, but the  _ actual _ wings. For a brief second, he wondered how they could be so beautiful and majestic, but then he remembered – Castiel was pushed to earth before the angels fell, and as a human, too. His wings never had the chance to be destroyed in the fall like it did to the other angels. 

“Castiel, how could you?” Hannah said. Her voice was thick with disbelief and betrayal. 

Cas, having recovered from having his grace being returned, took a moment to look around at the faces of his angels, all of them glaring at him in accusation. 

“I did not Hannah. This was not me.” 

Dean looked at Metatron, and while everyone's gaze was on Castiel, he saw the smirk on Metatron's face. Dean thought back to the conversations with Dream Guy – Oberon. The sneer when talking about who had summoned him. 

“It wasn't Cas,” Dean stepped forward. 

“Dean, don't,” Cas said. His eyes showed defeat and hurt, though, and Dean couldn’t stand quietly and watch his friend be falsely accused. 

“Cas, its okay,” Dean said. He missed how Oberon's eyes narrowed while observing Dean and Cas. 

Dean strode towards Metatron, his lips curled into a sneer. “The troll, the muppet, mini ogre, rat face,” he said, ticking off the names on his fingers. “Isn't that what you called the summoner?” Dean said, looking at Oberon. He was currently sprawled out in his chair again, like he hadn't a care in the world. He just smiled at Dean, his gaze sweeping up and down Dean’s body. Dean shivered at the lust he saw in his eyes. 

_ One problem at a time. _ Dean took a deep breath before turning to look at Metatron. “Does that sound like he’s describing Cas to you?” Dean asked the room. “It was you, Metatron. He was talking about you. And you're trying to set Cas up.” 

All the angel's gazes now swung from Castiel to Metatron.

Metatron stared at Dean for a few seconds, before he threw his head back and laughed. “First of all, I’m insulted that you would think of me when using those names. Second, I’m actually impressed with what an active imagination you have there, Dean” Metatron sneered. 

Hannah looked back and forth between Castiel and Metatron, her face displaying the confusion that was mirrored in all the other angels’ faces as well. 

She cleared her throat and took a tentative step toward Oberon, making him look at her. “Are you able to tell us who summoned you, what exactly you were tasked to do, and the reward you were promised?”

Oberon smiled. “I cannot tell you who tasked me, but since I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, I can tell you what they are.” 

Dean smiled as Metatron's smirk disappeared, replaced with a hint of nervousness. 

“As I said, I was asked to help gain an advantage for one side of an army, and to retrieve and return a certain angel's grace. My reward,” Oberon said, standing up and once again locking his eyes with Dean. “Was to have my property, my heart, my beautiful hunter, returned to me.”

Everyone started talking at once after Oberon's declaration. Sam had reached Dean's side and whispered, “What is going on, Dean?” 

Dean just shook his head, trying to follow the multiple conversations occurring at once. 

“You see! It was Castiel!” Metatron said loudly, ceasing everyone else’s fervent muttering.

After a few beats of silence, Dean was shocked when one of Metatron's angels started to laugh. After hearing their fellow angel begin to bravely express his mirth first, most of the angels in the room started to laugh too, emboldened.

“What’s so funny? Metatron demanded.

The angel who started to laugh first walked over to Castiel's side, showing his change of allegiance. “What’s so funny,” he said, turning to Metatron. “Is you expecting us to believe Castiel traded Dean Winchester.” All the angels in the room nodded, including Hannah.

“Alameniel is right,” Hannah said. “He would never trade Dean Winchester when he has chosen him above heaven and his family repeatedly.”

Castiel looked at Dean. He blushed a little to be met with Dean's warm smile directed at him. It was even more amazing as every angel walked away from Metatron and crossed the room to stand by Castiel. 

“Oh, well, you got me,” Metatron said with a grin. “It was a perfect plan. Get rid of the one real threat to me… Oh, not you, Castiel,” Metatron said. “Cain junior over here.” Metatron waved at Dean. “You see, I read the prophet's books and I saw the discrepancy in the timeline. I knew something else must have happened during Dean's trip to the fae realm. And, boy was I right,” Metatron snickered rubbing his hands together. “It was so much better than I had imagined. Oberon himself had claimed Dean and wanted him back!”

“So, I set Castiel up. But just like everything else, you ruined that too!” Metatron yelled. turning to Dean. He cut his hand through the air with anger, and a table flew towards Dean. Dean quickly sidestepped it with ease. The angels started to advance to take Metatron prisoner, when Metatron spoke again, strangely calmer this time. “But it doesn't matter.” Metatron waved his hand and Dean, Sam, and all the angels were pinned in place, and the angels cried out as pain lanced through them.

Metatron's eyes glowed blue. 

“I'm your new God. I'm more powerful than any of you, and so what if I made a deal with a fairy? You will all still follow me, or I will kill each and every one of you – starting with you first, Asstiel,” Metatron sneered, tightening his fist. Castiel cried out, falling to his knees. 

Dean fought through the hold and felt a small give in Metatron's power. He frantically looked around the room, searching for a way to stop Metatron, who was taking a second to glare at Oberon. Oberon himself was just watching with an amused expression, his eyes gleaming in satisfaction the more Cas cried out in pain. 

___________ 

Gadreel had stood frozen after Metatron left the office. Metatron was mad. He was evil. And he was the last angel that should have all the power he managed to siphon off the angel tablet. Between the missing angels, Metatron’s questionable ruling, the unnecessary murders he made Gadreel commit, and now this final threat that would leave no one able to defeat Metatron – none of this, in any way, was okay. 

Gadreel began to search the office. For half an hour he looked, but he still hadn’t found where Metatron hid the angel tablet. Finally, as defeat started to worm through him, he plopped down in Metatron’s chair, staring at the ancient typewriter, the base of it looking unnaturally large.

His mind clicked. Hands shaking, Gadreel carefully pried the typewriter open. And sure enough, there was the angel tablet, humming with power. 

After using a nearby cloth to wrap it up, Gadreel stood there, uncertain what to do at this point. He couldn’t bring himself to destroy it. It was the angel tablet, the last word of their missing God, but he couldn’t let Metatron have control of it any longer. 

After a few more minutes of contemplation, Gadreel came to a decision. The best course of action that he could see would be to bring it to Dean Winchester. And if that resulted in his own death, well.

Gadreel had made a lot of mistakes, and he had crimes to pay for, after all. 

––––––––

Dean's eyes narrowed in anger when his gaze landed on Gadreel. He was pretty surprised when he spied the hated angel sneaking in during the middle of Metatron's speech. 

Gadreel met Dean’s eyes. His gaze flicked down to his hand. Following his line of sight, Dean looked to the angel’s hand, and there, wrapped in a cloth, was the angel tablet, glowing softly as Metatron drew power from it. 

Dean gritted his teeth. The Mark pulsed and throbbed, providing Dean with a burst of power enabling him to move. He jumped free and wasted no time, running over to Gadreel and grabbing the angel tablet. He turned back around to look at everyone as he raised the tablet high above his head.

Metatron’s eyes widened when realization dawned on him as to what Dean was planning to do. “No, don't!” Metatron screamed. 

“Fuck you,” Dean responded. He looked at Sam. 

“This is for Kevin!”

And Dean threw the tablet to the ground, smashing it to pieces causing a loud boom and a wave of power to sweep through the room. Almost immediately all the angels were released from Metatron's power and Metatron fell to the ground. He was quickly scooped up by angels who pushed him into a chair, restraining him with angel cuffs. 

Dean ran over to Cas, bending down to help him up. “Are you okay?” Dean asked worried, looking into the depths of ocean blue eyes. Cas smiled. 

“Yes, thank you, Dean.” They stood there, staring at each other. The rest of the room began to melt away, until Dean heard a loud growl and felt himself yanked away from Cas. 

“Stay away from him,” Oberon snarled at Cas. 

“You stay away from him.” Cas retorted, stepping right up to Oberon fearlessly. Sam joined him, standing right next to Cas. 

“Let him go,” Sam demanded. 

Oberon just smirked. With a flick of his hand, Sam and Cas and all the angels were thrown back and once again pinned in place. 

“No!” Dean yelled. “Let them go, you bastard,” Dean swung around. Pulling back his arm, Dean punched Oberon in the face.

Oberon wiped at the small amount of blood that welled up from his split lip, and grinned through it. “Enough of that, Dean. Let's go.”

“I'm not going anywhere with you,” Dean sneered, pulling out the First Blade. 

Oberon, with an evil grin, summoned a golden thread. Still smiling, he threw it at Dean. To Dean's horror, the thread did the same thing from his dream, whizzing super fast around his arm and then clamping down in a perfect imitation of the band. Dean felt the muffled, cotton-like feeling envelope him. 

“No!” He cried out, trying to attack Oberon once again. He was easily frozen in place this time with the Mark’s power suppressed. 

“Stop fighting me, my beautiful hunter.” Oberon commanded.

“Don't call me that,” Dean snarled. “I'm not yours, and I never will be.” Dean struggled to break Oberon’s hold. This couldn’t be happening.  _ Please be a dream, _ Dean thought hysterically, even though he knew how fruitless that thought was. 

“We'll see.” Oberon calmly walked over to Dean. Going around behind him, he pulled Dean to his chest, his hands roaming everywhere on Dean’s body. 

Dean shivered in disgust. “I'm going to kill you.” 

“Mhm,” Oberon hummed, biting Dean's ear. Oberon’s fingers stroked over Dean’s throat, and then Dean felt him shift behind him. “I had this made just for you,” Oberon cooed, bringing a gold collar in front of Dean’s face. It was thick and looked  _ heavy,  _ with amethysts and emeralds inlaid in the band, the emeralds surrounded by the purple amethysts. “This represents us,” Oberon whispered.

“You mother fucker, don’t you  _ dare _ put that on me,” Dean said, but cringed when his voice sounded more pleading than demanding. 

Dean’s eyes found Cas’, and they looked at one another with pure horror. 

A second later, a heavy weight was around his neck, and the snap of the lock echoed loudly in Dean’s head. Dean felt similar weights click around his wrists before his hands were locked together behind his back. 

“Say goodbye, Dean. You won't be coming back this time.” Oberon said, dragging Dean over to the circle on the ground. With a few foreign words from Oberon, it lit up again as the portal activated.

Dean tried to fight, but with the Mark suppressed and Oberon being so powerful, it was a losing battle.

Sam and Cas started yelling for Oberon to let Dean go, but they were ignored. Oberon paused right before the circle, and Dean locked eyes with Sam and Cas. Tears were streaming down his face, and the last thing he saw was anguish on Cas’ face, and the loss and rage on Sam’s. 

With one jerk, Dean found himself back in the fae realm. Less than five minutes later, he was locked back in his golden cage. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include references to non-con, non-con touching and kissing.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed a little POV from Gadreel. I split it up to make the story flow better but it is a little disjointed but I think it works. 
> 
> So how many of you had figured out who Dream Guy before the reveal?


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Sam scramble to save Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, thank you for the comments. I'm glad I was able to surprise people with Oberon being Dream Guy. Not much for triggers in this chapter. 
> 
> I heavily borrowed from the show in this chapter but it really fit so I went with it.

Castiel stared in shock at the still shimmering circle of light that Dean had disappeared into – that Dean had been chained up and  _ dragged _ through. Castiel’s heart was aching, and he was barely keeping control of his newly regained grace. After everything Dean had said last night, and once again, he was a prisoner of some monster. 

Castiel looked at Sam in disbelief. Sam had a similar expression to what Cas was feeling all too well on his face. They shared a look that said one thing.

_ This couldn’t be happening _

_ Again.  _

They had  _ just _ gotten Dean back, things were finally starting to get better between them, and then the bombshell of what Dean’s childhood had been like combined with Dean being kidnapped by a being so powerful – Castiel didn’t know what to do. It’s been a millennia since the fairies had been an issue. Now, Metatron had opened that portal, had let angels be kidnapped, and now Dean was at the mercy of that monster.

Castiel growled, thinking of the way Oberon looked at Dean, had put his disgusting hands all over him.

Castiel whipped his head around when Metatron had the nerve to chuckle and clap his handcuffed hands together, bringing Castiel back to reality. 

“Well, that was enjoyable.” He said, his voice full of spite. 

Castiel strode over to Metatron. He could feel Sam following closely behind. “You bastard!” He grabbed Metatron’s collar and yanked him forward. “Why would you do this?” Castiel demanded, voice dropping an octave lower with his barely repressed anger screaming to be let loose.

“Watch the hands, Asstiel,” Metatron said. The smirk never left his face despite the imposing figure Castiel knew he was at that moment, and pushing it right into Metatron’s face too. “I did what any good General would do. I neutralized the biggest threat. I knew right away after reading the ‘Winchester gospels,’” And Metatron sneered at the title. “Things didn’t add up. So imagine my surprise when I found out Oberon has been trying to get Dean back for centuries! You have to admit – it was perfect!”

Castiel growled again, rage shaking him through his very core. His angel blade dropped into his hand. He was about to bring his arm forward when he felt Sam tugging on his arm. 

“Don’t, Cas.” 

Castiel turned to shoot Sam a look of disbelief for daring to stop him. “Sam–”

But Sam just shook his head. He pushed Castiel back and led him away, bending his head down a little and indicating the need to talk in private.

“Cas, never mind him right now – what the hell just happened?” Sam asked, voice hushed. “Why were Oberon and Dean talking like they had known each other for awhile? I don’t remember much because that was when I was… you know, soulless, but Dean was only gone for half a night or so,” Sam said. 

“Sam, time moves differently in the fae realm, similar to hell. It’s a rough guess, but I’d have to say that around six hours for us would be about two months in the fae realm.”

Sam slumped down into a nearby chair. “He was there all that time? He came back and he made it sound like it was hardly there at all.”

Cas hummed. Turning his head, he glared over at Metatron again, who gave a cheeky wave back, smiling maliciously.

“From what I could decipher, Dean’s memories were erased by some kind of spell. Oberon was the one invading Dean’s dreams,” Cas said. Sam nodded.

“Sam, we only have a few hours to get Dean back, or else…” Cas stopped, unable to speak as his throat became clogged with emotion.

“Or else what?” Sam demanded. 

“If Dean is in the fae realm for two moons – two months – he will be stuck there for eternity.” Cas explained. 

“What are we going to do Cas?” Sam looked down. His bangs fell over his eyes, and that, paired with how he sounded – Castiel wasn’t seeing a hardened hunter, but a small boy lost without his brother. “I can’t lose my brother again. And–and,” Sam sniffed, blinking and tilting his head back, trying to dispel the tears pooling in his eyes. “After what we learned yesterday and I didn’t say anything to him, he must think – oh, god,” Sam covered his face with his hands. Hunched over, Castiel watched as Sam took deep breaths to calm down. 

Castiel came to a decision, then and there. “Get your gun,” Cas said. 

“What? Why?” Sam sputtered, but obediently stood and trailed after Cas as he walked over to Metatron.

“How do we summon Oberon back here?” Castiel demanded. He pressed his blade against Metatron’s throat. Hannah took a step forward but a single shake of Castiel’s head had her stopping, albeit reluctantly. 

Metatron just smiled at him. “Why would I tell you that? I’m going to be locked up in heaven for who knows how long, and the thought of what Dean is going to be going through… it’s going to warm my bed at night for a very long time.” Metatron chuckled. It was quickly cut off with a pained grunt when Castiel punched him. 

“Unless,” Metatron said, stretching out his jaw before regaining his oily smile to greet Castiel with when he looked back up. “You let me go.” 

“You don’t get to make demands here, Metatron,” Castiel said. “You’re not in charge.”

“Oh, I’m afraid I am. I know about the summoning, hell, I even know how you could get Dean back. And in time, no less. That means I have all the leverage; learn it, live it, love it.” Metatron said, looking disgustingly pleased with himself. 

Castiel grabbed an empty water bottle from a nearby table and yanked Metatron’s head back by his hair with his other hand. 

“Hands off,” Metatron squirmed, his voice wavering at the look on Castiel’s face. “What are you doing?”

“Shut up,” Castiel said, With a swipe of his blade, Metatron’s grace poured into the bottle. Castiel quickly capped it, noting with satisfaction that Metatron had lost his smirk and looked properly frightened now.

Good.

“How do we summon him back?” Castiel repeated. Metatron stayed silent. Turning, Castiel nodded at Sam, letting go of Metatron to take a step back.

Metatron screamed in pain as Sam shot him in the leg. “Are you crazy?” Metatron gasped in pain, fruitlessly trying to stop the bleeding. 

“We have your grace, Metatron. You’re mortal now. So,” Castiel tilted his head as he crouched down in front of Metatron, bringing them to eye level. “You will answer our questions, or Sam will – what’s the phrase? ‘Blow you’re friggin brains out.’ It’s called leverage, Metatron.” 

“Learn it, live it, love it,” Sam chimed in, mockingly. “Now tell us,” he raised his gun, aiming a little higher this time as a warning. “How do we get Dean back?” Sam demanded. 

Metatron was silent again. Sam cocked his gun, turning the safety off. Metatron looked to Hannah, silently pleading. She shook her head, looking almost pitying at him as she stepped back.

“Okay! Okay, jeez,” Metatron slumped in his chair. “You can summon Oberon again, but he wouldn’t bring Dean with him, so that wouldn’t really accomplish anything.” Metatron said. 

“Then what?” Sam snarled. He’d lowered his arms when Metatron started speaking, but now he was raising his gun again.

“There’s only one way you could save Dean. You’d have to call a meeting with the Old Ones and prove that you have a bigger claim on Dean than Oberon does,” Metatron jeered, but then whimpered when he accidentally jostled his wounded leg. “Good luck with that,” he huffed.

Cas and Sam looked at each other. Sam leaned over, whispering, and Castiel listened. A few minutes of a heated discussion later, they both nodded and stepped back. “It’s our best shot,” Castiel allowed, letting a small smile tug the corners of his lips up. 

Once Metatron wrote down what they needed and Sam and Cas retrieved the items – Castiel flying to heaven to raid Metatron’s supply – they went to the circle still faintly glowing in the middle of the bar, and started to set up the ritual for the summoning. 

Metatron’s quiet chuckles – as if he was trying to hold it back, except, he really wasn’t bothering to – made them pause.

Castiel slowly straightened, eyes pinned on Metatron. “What?”

“Well…” Metatron drew out the word, relishing in their growing impatience. He must have failed to realize what that meant for him, if they did lose their patience. “There’s one thing I might’ve failed to mention,” Metatron smirked.

“Metatron,” Castiel stepped forward. His fingers itched to just draw his blade through Metatron’s throat already, but he held back. “Was this a lie?” Castiel growled out through gritted teeth.

“No, no, it will work. Thing is, though, if you request the Old Ones to intervene and you fail to prove your claim, the price of wasting their time is – and here’s where it gets good,” Metatron chuckled rubbing his hands together in glee. The angel cuffs rattled as his wrists shook with the motion. “You forfeit your lives.” 

Castiel thought about it. It didn’t take more than a few seconds for him to come to his decision. He didn’t want to live anymore if Dean wasn’t in his life, in this world. Not after everything that had happened, and not with knowing what Dean would be going through with Oberon.

If they failed to save Dean, then Castiel had well and truly failed at saving the one purpose he had to live for, so what was more fitting a price than to pay with his own life?

Sam looked at Castiel, and Castiel saw the same determination in his eyes. He knew Sam would be just as iron-willed as himself… but for Dean’s sake, he had to at least make an attempt to try and dissuade him.

“Sam, let me try this. It should work,” Castiel said. 

“No, Cas, are you nuts?” Castiel couldn’t help but think that the look Sam had on his face as he stared at Castiel certainly seemed to imply that. “No way.” 

“Sam, do you think Dean would want to be saved this way? You putting yourself in danger?” Castiel said, keeping his voice gentle. He was hoping to get his point across without angering Sam, because nothing would drive Sam more and blind him to any and all reason than if he was angry, Castiel knew. And if Sam wasn’t thinking clearly… no. They needed to both keep a level head to deal with the Old Ones, if Metatron wasn’t lying when he implied just how hard it would be to convince them.

–––––––

Sam shook his head at Cas’s gentle explanations. Oh, he knew Castiel had a point – but there was no way Castiel could expect him to care about that. Because he didn’t care. He didn’t want to go on without his brother. Not after everything. And if this was their only shot, then they would take it. No matter the consequences. 

“Look, Cas, I get it,” Sam admitted. “But after everything Dean has done for me – god… all that horrible stuff I’m  _ just _ finding out about? I have to…”

“Sam…” 

“No, Cas. I’ve been out there, messed up, scared, and alone, and Dean…”

“Did whatever he could to save you.” Castiel finished for him.

“Yeah.” Sam nodded, looking down and away from Castiel’s understanding gaze. “I mean – it’s become his thing. Even when I push him away, hurt him, turn my back on him, he still…” Sam swallowed, cutting himself off. He cleared his throat and looked Cas in the eye. “I owe him this. I owe him  _ everything _ . And if it means I die trying to save him, then so be it. Dean would…” Sam stopped again, his emotions riding too strong to let him continue.

“Dean would do the same,” Castiel filled in, voice quiet. Sam nodded.

“Okay.” Castiel inhaled, looking up, and Sam got a glimpse into how affected the angel himself was by all of this. Despite his stoicism, his fearless and powerful facade as an angel… it was just that, a facade, in the face of what was happening – what  _ could  _ happen to Dean.

Castiel gripped Sam’s shoulder, looking at the circle and making Sam follow his line of sight as well. Cas patted him once before letting go, the two of them standing side by side in front of the circle. “Let’s do this.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References to past abuse and non-con.


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean tries to fight. Oberon's POV.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi last chapter this weekend, see end for triggers.

Dean looked around the familiar golden cage. His eyes were wide and held panic from the shock of his sudden return to the fairy realm. There was the same large bed with wooden slatted foot and headboards, the small table with two chairs, and the shower/bathroom area in the corner separated by a folding screen.

Dean’s heart thudded loudly. His breathing hitched as more and more memories flooded his brain from his previous time here. Dean remembered all too vividly the feelings of hopelessness, feeling helpless and enraged at being trapped here, while the soulless version of his brother was off doing who knows what. At the time, he’d held vague hope that Sam would still be looking for him… but the betrayal when he found out otherwise tainted even that faint memory of hope now. Dean recalled how he despaired everything as the second moon’s passing got closer and closer. Roderick offering him a way to escape was honestly a miracle. 

But then Dean’s stomach sank, his eyes tearing up as he thought about Roderick. Even before the escape, Roderick had tried to help Dean by soothing over Oberon’s volatile temper to prevent Dean from getting hurt, to distract him, or sometimes would even force Oberon away for a few nights to give Dean a break. He would visit Dean and they would play chess through the bars. Roderick was really the only other being who had spoken to Dean during that time, other than Oberon, as all the other fae were too afraid to speak to the fae king’s soon-to-be consort. 

Oberon was being uncharacteristically quiet while Dean’s mind wandered. Dean flexed his still bound hands behind his back. The heavy weight of the collar around his neck didn’t let him forget about it, and the literal weight of it all made him want to tear Oberon apart: for bringing him back here, for hurting him in his dreams, for the months of abuse he suffered the last time he was his prisoner, for everything. 

Dean glared at Oberon. The fae king was lounging against the bars, his arms and legs crossed with a self satisfied smirk on his face. Even through the Mark’s suppression, Dean felt rage build up within him.

Dean stalked over to Oberon who straightened at Dean’s approach. “Unchain me,” Dean demanded. At the sight of Oberon’s eyes narrowing and starting to glow purple, Dean, instead of backing down, growled, thrusting his chin up in further defiance. Oberon quirked a brow. “Take these off of me, Oberon, and send me back home, or I will kill you,” Dean threatened, only to find himself down on the ground with his jaw throbbing. Oberon had moved so fast, Dean never even saw him raise his arm. He was reminded by the action of the truth: that Oberon was so much more powerful now, compared to his dreams.

“Watch your tone, Dean,” Oberon warned, even as he sidestepped a kick to his shin with ease. He pulled Dean up by a firm grip on his biceps, and slammed him against the bars. Dean’s eyes widened, his mask slipping as fear spread through his body. The memories of being held to the point of having his arms bruised for weeks were too clear from the past few months, but he pushed his fear down with difficulty, and focused on trying to wrench his body away from Oberon’s grasp instead.

Oberon just chuckled at Dean’s squirming, stepping closer until his body was plastered against Dean’s front, and Dean felt the bars pressing painfully into his bound hands. 

“Don’t,” Dean warned, but it sounded weak. Oberon smiled. His hands left Dean’s arms, one grasping the back of Dean’s head and the other wrapped around his throat, right above the collar.

“Stop fighting, my beautiful hunter,” Oberon murmured, his eyes on Dean’s lips. “You remember, so you know there is no escape. Just give in and let our love blossom.” 

Despite his fear and rage, Dean rolled his eyes at the flowery speech. “Yeah, I think I’ll pass,” Dean responded. Again, he only felt the hard slap without ever seeing it. This time, his face slammed into the bars.  _ Fuck. _ That was probably going to leave an interestingly shaped bruise on his cheek. 

Oberon was done pretending. His moods had always been quick to change, but anger tended to be the most predominant one. Dean shuddered before he could get a hold of himself, flashes of the punishments he had received in the past brought to the forefront of his mind now. Nonetheless, he still tried to keep his mouth sealed when Oberon went in for a kiss, only to unexpectedly open up with a gasp of pain as Oberon yanked his head back roughly.

“Your eyes are so beautiful when spitting fire at me,” Oberon said when he came up for air after plundering Dean’s mouth. Then, with an evil smirk Oberon purred, “Let’s make them sparkle with passion instead.”

“No, you motherfu– _ mmph _ !” Dean screamed as Oberon captured his lips in a bruising kiss. Dean could taste the sweet nectar as it entered his mouth. ‘ _ No!’ _ He tried, and failed, to resist the almost immediate warmth and need that flowed through him.

“That’s right, my beautiful hunter. See how much you want me?” Oberon whispered. He thrusted his erect cock up against Dean. Unable to help himself, he pushed right back with a whimper. Dean found himself spun around. A second later, he felt the chain between his hands fall away. Dean grabbed for the bars, trying to avoid grabbing at Oberon even while his body shook with lust spiraling through him. The feeling was so much more powerful than it was in his dreams.

“Come on, Dean. Just give in,” Oberon murmured. He quickly stripped Dean of his clothing and footwear. Eyes scrunched closed in the futile effort to resist, Dean found himself laid out on the bed. Soon, he felt the skin of a very naked Oberon lie on top of him, his large body blanketing Dean and pushing him down into the soft mattress. Dean weakly tried to push him away. Oberon growled, and without even looking up from where he was sucking a bruise on Dean’s neck, flicked his fingers. Dean’s arms flew above his head, pinned to place with a golden thread. He fought against the desire that built through him relentlessly, Oberon kissing and licking at every part of his bared skin. Oberon spread his legs, pushing Dean’s apart in the process with him bracketing Oberon’s legs. Dean tensed up, but as he felt Oberon’s huge cock enter him, Dean lost the battle to hold onto the little bit of control he had left. He spiraled down into a haze of lust, need, and want.

______

Oberon looked down at a sleeping Dean with satisfaction. Finally, after so many years, he had his heart back. After finding out about Roderick’s betrayal and destroying him and all his rebels, Oberon had existed in a state of complete and constant fury. Things had gotten so bad that the Old Ones had to step in and knock some sense into him before he destroyed the realm he was ruling over with rage, grief, and regret.

When Oberon had first laid eyes on his human, dragged to court for a formal claim by that two bit leprechaun, he was lost. The fire in those gorgeous eyes, his adorable freckles spread across his stunning face, and his bright soul. Never had Oberon seen a soul so incredible, despite all the pain and suffering he knew his human had experienced. Shocking everyone, Oberon had laid claim to Dean Winchester immediately, and he was happy. Despite the fact that Dean fought and defied him more than anyone ever had in his very long life, Oberon was at peace. Then to have Dean ripped away from him, right before the two moon mark that would have forever bound Dean to him – and for it to have been at his brother’s hand!

To make matters worse, Oberon had been so caught up in his human that he figured he would have plenty of time to implement the plan that had been in the back of his mind ever since he had become king. So he enjoyed himself, waiting until the two moon mark, and that had been his costly mistake. First, Dean had been sent back, which in and of itself was unheard of, but his amazing human had managed to close the portal from his end as well, leaving Oberon once again with no way into the human realm. 

Oberon had never stopped trying all kinds of spells and various forms of magic, but there was no way for him to open a portal from his side, and no portals were opened from the human side. Therefore, it came as a great surprise when he was summoned – and by an angel pretending to be God, no less. He would have loved nothing more than to rip the angel’s head from his muppet body for daring to task Oberon like he was some run of the mill fairy, but then – then, he had learned about his Dean, and suddenly, everything was perfect. Even better was the fact that the mini angel’s enemy was someone who dared to hold a place in his human’s heart, a place where only Oberon should exist. 

Oberon used all the knowledge he had accumulated in the millennia he was King to keep a link open so that he could visit his human again, becoming stronger and stronger as time went on. He was almost able to break open the portal on his own before he was summoned. It had made him furious at first, until he saw the angel who had been keeping him from Dean’s dreams. The look on the angel’s face when Oberon reclaimed his love was worth it. 

And now, Dean had this Mark on his arm that gave him all kinds of power in the human’s realm. But it also fated Dean to turning into a demon and, hence, an uncontrollable killer, if not kept in check. Oberon could see how immense the power was and was eager to see what Dean could do with it here. It made Oberon furious that his heart had been so very badly hurt from others trying to take Dean for themselves. The female demon was lucky she was already dead, but Oberon would not be cheated out of dishing out revenge on that so called ‘king of hell’ – another who dared to carve a place in his Dean’s heart. At least the vertically challenged angel had given him good information on how to suppress its power. Oberon was not sure how it would behave in this realm, especially once the passage of the second moon marked its time, but he wasn’t going to take any chances this time, not until Dean was unequivocally his. 

Oberon’s finger traced over the freckles dotting Dean’s skin, smiling when Dean mumbled in his sleep and then growling when, even asleep, Dean tried to pull away from his touch. His heart was so frustrating with all this fighting. He was so much better off staying here with Oberon. The other realm had been a place full of pain and betrayal for his human, much of it having happened in the time since they parted. And yet, Dean continued to fight. 

It didn’t matter. Oberon would win him over in the end, especially after they bonded. As soon as the two moon mark passed and Dean became his for eternity, he would put his plan in motion. Oberon smiled to himself at the thought of the pain and torment he planned to inflict on the angel and demon, while simultaneously accomplishing something he had been trying to do for his realm since the treaty was made. 

Practically purring with happiness, Oberon got back in bed and gathered his human up in his arms. It was time to wake him up so he could feed him more nectar and get lost in the beautiful, sexy body of Dean Winchester. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oberon rapes Dean who is drugged by his nectar.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Oberon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, I have a nice long chapter for you. Its almost a part 1 with the next chapter but it was way too long leaving them together so I picked I think a good place to split it.
> 
> Lots of triggers in this chapter. Please see end for notes. 
> 
> As always thank you for leaving kudos or comments and continuing with the story.

Dean vaguely recalled sleeping, eating, and the countless times and ways Oberon took him, but he was in a perpetual fog of desire. The nectar was being given to Dean without a break, so it was a surprise when Dean opened his eyes and was clear headed for the first time in what felt like weeks and, god, Dean really hoped it hadn’t been weeks. He stretched, feeling sore, used, and filthy inside and out. 

Dean stumbled out of the bed and into the shower, scrubbing his skin until it hurt. He was disgusted and disheartened by the numerous bites and bruises covering his body. He definitely remembered how rough Oberon liked it, and the state his body was in was a horrifying and blatant reminder. Dean looked around for something to wear, cursing at finding nothing. He stomped back to the bed, dragging the sheet of the bed wrapping it around himself. Slowly, he sat on a chair and tried to think of a way out, out of this cage, out of this realm, out of his messed up, pain-filled, suck ass of a life.

_ “Worthless whore even in another realm!” _ His father screamed in his head. Dean flinched, flashes of the last few weeks overwhelming his senses where Dean had put even the most experienced and sought after porn stars to shame. 

Dean was given some food by a servant who still would not talk to him, but looked at him with awe. Yet, when Dean gave her a small smile, she paled dramatically, looked around herself in fear before taking off. Sighing and realizing he probably just caused her to get punished in some way judging by the fear on her face, he figured talking anyone into helping him was off the table.

Dean tried to figure out what Oberon wanted. He couldn’t just want Dean in his bed twenty-four-seven. There had to be another reason for him to kidnap Dean, for him to try so hard to get Dean back despite the amount of time to have passed. But Dean was stumped. Even if the Mark wasn’t suppressed, Dean suspected Oberon would still be more powerful than him, especially in his own realm. So what did he really need Dean for? 

Dean thought back to his conversation with Cas, when Dean had told him that he seemed to be a magnet for these types of monsters. And boy was he right. Because here he was, on monster number three in just over two years, that wanted to take everything Dean didn’t want to give and then some. Dean snorted, thinking that technically, he should include Crowley on that list and bring it to a total of four monsters. “ _It’s just business,_ ” Crowley had said. Dean still felt the familiar ache of betrayal and shame at his naivete, in believing Crowley actually wanted Dean for himself. “ _Thinking isn’t really Dean’s thing_.” God, how many hunters, supposed friends, how many people had laughed at Dean behind his back at how stupid he was to be so easily manipulated? He knew deep down that John would never hurt Sam, but there was always a chance, and living in that state of constant pain and fear, Dean never questioned that he had to protect Sam and take whatever abuse John doled out onto him. Now, looking back, he realized what a chump he was. A good little soldier who did everything his father ordered. What Sam must have thought about Dean. All the digs and insults Sam hurled at him throughout their childhood for following John’s orders so blindly and – oh my god. Dean’s brain stuttered with fear and a sickening realization. What if Sam thought Dean asked for it, wanted it? Sam’s insults about Dean being John’s soldier were almost outweighed by all the number of jokes and digs about Dean being such a slut all the time. What if–what if Sam thought Dean wanted it? “ _I know about you and dad_ ,” dream Sam’s voice sneered. “ _I know how you seduced him.”_

He pushed the impending panic attack aside. There was nothing he could do about them right now. First, he had to figure out a way to get home before even thinking about dealing with Sam – or dealing with Sam turning away from him again because, come on. Who was he kidding?

Dean spent some more time trying unsuccessfully to loosen the bars of the cage before giving up and started pacing around in a circle instead, just as Oberon finally returned. Dean snarled and slapped Oberon’s hand away when he entered and tried to cup Dean’s jaw. Purple fire flashed in Oberon’s eyes briefly, but then he smiled. 

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed, Dean?” Oberon asked with a smirk. 

“Any bed with you in it is the wrong side.” Dean spat. 

“Is there some reason you’re being so cranky today?” Oberon asked, yet he sounded dismissive, like he couldn’t be bothered with whatever Dean had to respond with. He was removing his shirt and boots, and was starting to take off his pants when Dean yelled.

“Don’t!”

Oberon’s eyes narrowed. He stood up and stalked toward Dean, grabbing him by the hair and going in to kiss Dean, most likely to drug him again. Furious and just too scared to lose his wits again, Dean brought his knee up with as much force as he could manage, and kneed Oberon in the groin. Oberon dropped Dean and doubled over with a hiss of pain. When Oberon looked up, his eyes were purple, laser beams of fury, and Dean was flung onto the bed. Oberon moved quickly, straddling Dean, locking Dean’s wrists above his head with one of his large hands. Oberon harshly grabbed onto Dean’s chin, turning his face and forcing Dean to look up at him. 

“What is the meaning of this little act of rebellion?” Oberon sneered. “I thought we were past this now, after so many weeks of love.”

“Are you insane?” Dean yelled. “That wasn’t love,” Dean gasped as Oberon’s fingers squeezed his throat. But then Oberon’s words caught up in Dean’s brain. 

“Weeks! How long have I been here?” Dean snarled. He internally winced. He hated to be right, but the truth was that a lot of time had passed. Too much time.

Oberon shrugged. “A little over a month.”

“You bastard,” Dean swore. His mind filled with horror, snaps of reality flitting through. 

“Psh,” Oberon dismissed Dean’s outrage. “I had intended on keeping you in the blissful state of my love until the second moon, but regrettably, I was called away for longer than I anticipated.” Oberon explained. But the way his eyes flashed purple fire ensured Dean that some poor fae paid dearly for that.

Dean stared at Oberon in shock, his emotions spinning.

“Just admit it, my beautiful hunter. You want to be with me. Your heart belongs to mine, and your passion confirms it.”

Oberon’s eyes flashed again as he went into for another kiss. And Dean knew what would happen next. The sweetness would flood his mouth, and want and need would take over. Dean hated that feeling. It was almost ironic, because Dean had played the same charade with Abaddon, pretending a spell had forced him to want her and love her, except now Dean was actually living it. It had to be some kind of fucked up karmic nightmare. 

“Don’t you dare, you bastard,” Dean yelled. “You made me – you’re forcing me to respond to your sadistic shit,” Dean struggled harder when Oberon just gave him a pitying smile. “Don’t patronize me,” Dean snarled. “You stack the deck unfairly and then claim I love you. I will never love you,” Dean said. Oberon’s eyes widened at the force of Dean’s tone, but then quickly narrowed again. 

“You do love me, Dean. You just have to let go of whatever needless inhibitions you insist on maintaining, and accept it. We will be so happy, and with you by my side, I will finally get what I have wanted.”

Dean gave a scream of frustration as Oberon nibbled at his ear, then yet again, went in for another kiss. 

“You know what? If you’re so sure I want to be here, to be with you and that I love you, then prove it,” Dean challenged. “Stop drugging me.”

“I’m not drugging you,” Oberon had the nerve to say, pulling back slightly to stare down at Dean with his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

Dean’s eyes widened rather comically, his eyebrows shooting up to his hairline. “Then what the hell do you call whatever that poison is you force me to swallow and practically makes me turn into a bitch in heat?”

Oberon released Dean’s chin and his hands, sitting up a bit and smirked. “That is not poison. It’s just a part of me, my desire and my love, seeping through. You are feeling my devotion and desire, and your body responds to it.” 

“Oh my god,” Dean groaned. “You just can’t admit it, can you? Call a spade a spade,” Dean mocked. Oberon’s smirk was replaced with confusion once again, but this time he tilted his damn head and – Dean’s heart pulled a little, Cas’ face flashing in Dean’s mind. “Fuck you,” Dean gritted out. “You just don’t want to admit what you’re really doing to me.”

“Oh? Oberon raised his eyebrows. “And what’s that?” Oberon asked, looking smug and knowing anyway.

“Raping me,” Dean stated bluntly. “Forcing me, ignoring my wishes. Whatever you want to call it. I will never want you out of my own free will. No matter how much you manipulate me and try to poison me, the truth is, I will never. Love you,” Dean promised. 

Oberon’s eyes narrowed dangerously. His body became tense as a wire, rage visibly pulsing through him. Then, the smug look stole over his face once again as a challenge lit his eyes. 

“Ok, Dean. No more nectar of my love. I don’t need it. I’ll prove to you how much your body craves my touch, and then you will be able to let your mind catch up and stop with these foolish acts of defiance.”

“Bring it,” Dean challenged right back. 

A voice ghosted through his mind, making Dean shiver in dread.  _ "Dean, Dean, Dean, sing for me,"Alastair whispered seductively. _

Dean saw the dreaded golden thread coming at him. Helpless to stop it, he found his arms bound above his head, wrist cuffs attached by the golden strands. Then, Oberon pulled out several more threads, and with a whisper and a flick, Dean found himself in the dark, eyes covered by a golden blindfold.

“Motherfucker,” Dean swore. “Take it off, let me go!” He yelled, even though he knew it was useless.

Oberon chuckled, his breath warm against Dean’s skin. Dean felt the sheet yanked out from around him and the sound of clothes rustling, Oberon most likely undressing all the way. Dean’s legs were pushed apart, and sure enough, he felt hot skin press down on him as Oberon settled between his legs and then stretched out on top of Dean. 

“So beautiful, Dean,” Oberon said. Dean could do nothing but lie there as he felt warm hands caressing his body, pausing at Dean’s most sensitive areas, and then resuming their exploration. Dean squirmed as his nipples were brushed by Oberon’s thumbs, and an unwanted bolt of desire shot through him.

“No!” Dean screamed. He struggled, trying to get away from the touches, but Oberon persisted, and then abruptly changed tactics as he started to kiss and lick at Dean’s body. 

Eyes squeezed shut behind the blindfold, Dean fought off his body’s betrayal. _ “Such a cockslut Dean,” _ John’s voice whispered evilly in his head. “ _ You know you want it. It’s in your nature.” _

“Fuck you,” Dean swore aloud, at both the voice in his head, and Oberon, for moving down his body and placing his hot mouth everywhere. He hadn’t even touched Dean’s cock yet, and still, it was at half mast from the unwanted stimulation to the rest of his body. 

He tried to come up with images in his head sufficient to distract him. Zachariah’s fat face. Bobby wearing Daisy Dukes. Rotting corpses, and for a few minutes, Dean succeeded. However, he was jerked back to the present at the feeling of Oberon’s finger pressing against his prostate. Dean’s cock quickly filled, and he moaned aloud. Oberon chuckled, and Dean’s mind filled with shame and failure. 

“ _ Beg me, Dean, _ ” John ordered. 

“ _ Ah, there’s my pretty Dean, singing so sweetly for me,” _ Alastair’s voice purred. 

“ _ Please, no. _ ” 

“ _ My perfect pet. It’s all about getting the body to betray the mind. _ ” Alastair’s nasally voice rang in Dean’s mind. 

A small part of Dean knew this was just another way to break him. That he wasn’t really wanting it, even though his hips were jerking up to meet Oberon’s thrusts as he continuously hit Dean’s prostate. Even though Dean moaned and gasped with pleasure, it was unwanted… but surpassing anything else his mind screamed at him.

Dean lost the battle he never had a chance of winning, and orgasmed. 

Dean came on Oberon’s cock alone. 

“ _ Cocksucking slut _ .” John sneered.

“ _ That’s right boy you love it.” _ A nameless face in the back of a bar. 

And Dean had never felt more like the whore he’d been told his entire life he was than he did now.

Oberon released his hands and removed the blindfold. Gathering Dean up in his arms, he pulled Dean’s back against his chest. His body felt small, covered by Oberon’s massive form. Dean felt overwhelmed, like he was suffocating. Tears streamed down his face, but he didn’t make a sound, lost in his feelings of shame and failure. He was bombarded with the voices of Alastair and his father, the men in back alleys, the hunter friends of his father. Kate. Abaddon. Crowley.

“You see, my beautiful hunter. You can say no, but your body cries out for me, craves my touch,” Oberon whispered, his breath hot against Dean’s neck wet with his cooling sweat. 

Disheartened and full of anguish, Dean tried to squirm away from Oberon’s embrace. Oberon tightened his arms, and if Dean wasn’t so lost in his own thoughts, he would have laughed at the confusion emanating from Oberon. 

“Let me go,” Dean said, but he sounded thoroughly defeated. Dean felt himself spun around and onto his back, Oberon looming over him. 

“You still fight me?” Oberon questioned, looking shocked rather than angered, oddly enough. 

“Let me go,” Dean merely begged in response. He felt like he was on a tightrope, and no matter which direction he fell, Dean knew he would still fall, and he would lose himself for good. “I want to go home.” Dean said in a small voice, so quiet it could have easily been missed, but echoed loudly through his head regardless.

A part of him hated himself, that he was reduced to begging, but another, bigger part was too desperate to get out of here. 

“Go home?” Oberon snarled, and now he was angry. “What do you think you have to go back for, Dean?” Oberon asked forcefully.

Dean’s answer was automatic, springing from his tongue like it had always been at waiting there, even if his brain wasn’t fully on board with the program yet. “My brother and Ca–Cas,” Dean said. His mind was overwashed with blue, and Dean clung to it like a lifeline.

“You have nothing,” Oberon spat. “Nothing at all to go back to.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean asked. He’d been trying not to think about what things would be like when he returns – or if he returns – so it was with an attempt at trying to sound confident that Dean spoke. “Sammy and Cas–”

Oberon just gave Dean a sad smile, patting his cheek like a child. “Be honest, my beautiful hunter,” he said, cutting Dean off. “Your brother and angel found out about your past. They are disgusted, ashamed, and angry that you subjected them to your taint and lies.”

Dread filled Dean. What if… what if Oberon was right about Sammy? But Dean stubbornly kept silent. He might not have Sam if he escaped, but he had Cas. His angel who once again saved him. 

And that was what he said. “I have Cas,” Dean snarled. Oberon’s eyes lit with purple fire. Dean felt himself gasping for air as his throat and chest were crushed by the force of Oberon’s fury.

“The Angel,” Oberon snarled. “You think he is okay with your past, with who you really are?”

Even gasping for air as he was, Dean nodded.

Suddenly, the crushing force was gone, and Oberon was smiling down at Dean like a child who misbehaved. “So beautiful,” Oberon murmured. “But so stupid,” His fingers stroked Dean’s bruised throat softly.

“Fuc–” 

“Your angel is just like everyone else, Dean.” Oberon said, ignoring Dean. “He just wants to fuck you.” Oberon placed his hand on Dean’s chest.

Dean flinched. “No,” Dean denied vehemently. Cas wasn’t like that. He cared about Dean. “No,” he repeated. “Cas cares about me. He wouldn’t…” 

“Really?” Oberon asked, his face the very definition of the cat that got the canary. “So, like your brother, your angel has never left you? Never hurt you?” Dean’s mind flashed to the alley and the crypt. The endlessly bloody days of searching in purgatory. The countless amount of ignored texts and prayers when he was fighting the Mark.

But that had been before. Things were different now. Cas stopped him from turning into a demon. He’d said everything was going to be okay. He held him, and he… 

“Let me ask you this, Dean,” Oberon sneered, interrupting Dean’s thoughts. “When your angel found out about you, did he, or did he not kiss you?”

Dean’s eyes widened at the implication.  _ No _ . It didn’t mean that. It was a quick chaste kiss. It wasn’t…

“And had he ever kissed you before?” Oberon added, digging the knife of doubt deeper, and twisting it for good measure. 

Dean flinched violently at the words, unable to hide his emotions because of what Oberon said. Because Oberon had basically just summed up everything he was scared about. Dean’s heart raced. The Mark gave a few weak pulses, felt even through the bands, and tears sprang, unbidden, to Dean’s eyes. 

“No.  _ No _ ,” Dean croaked through the lump in his throat.

“Dean,” Oberon pulled Dean closer despite his struggles. “I know you thought you were doing the right thing by staying with your father, but will your brother see it that way? Will he really understand, or will he hate you for making a mockery of his life?” Oberon asked. He almost managed to sound sincere, too, in his questions, but the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes gave him away. 

It didn’t matter though, because Oberon kept talking. “Do you really want to go back to where you have been betrayed over and over again? Where you will be hunted? To where you’re constantly fighting this?” Oberon grabbed Dean’s arm and squeezed over the Mark. “Where you will be,” Oberon paused dramatically. “Abandoned.”

Dean shook his head, but it was half-hearted at best. Oberon laid out all his fears and was cunningly convincing in his arguments. The fear of how people would react, how  _ Sam _ would react, was why Dean had hidden the truth for so long. Dean was nothing but a whore and a bodyguard, a magnet for demons and monsters, all of whom saw Dean’s true nature: a killer and a slut. How could Dean subject his brother and angel to that? How could he even face Sam after what his brother found out? 

What did Dean really have to go back to? Holding on to the barely there control to stop himself from becoming a demon? From becoming the world’s biggest murderer? 

And yet… Cas had been so understanding. He  _ saved _ Dean from turning himself into a demon.

But Cas had abandoned him just a few months ago. 

Sam said he was sorry that he regretted disowning him.

But that was before he found out about John.

Sam wanted him back home.

But Sam was afraid of him.

Cas said it didn’t matter.

But Cas kissed him after finding out. 

Dean’s heart was full of anguish and pain. His emotions were scattered, and his thoughts the darkest they had ever been. His body was trembling uncontrollably, and for a second Dean almost moved closer to Oberon’s heat, looking for comfort, before he stopped himself and turned on his side instead, curling up into a ball. 

Dean felt the cottony-prison Oberon’s band forced on him. And instead of fighting against it, Dean let himself sink into it. He ignored the Mark screaming at Dean, to fight, to kill. He was finally able to embrace the numbness he had tried so hard to achieve when he was being tortured by Abaddon’s demons, and the brief experience after leaving the bunker. This time, instead of fighting, Dean took his misery and loneliness, his pain and shame, and let himself drift into the darkness of his mind, where it was safe. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include rape, physical abuse, memories of abuse from everyone basically in Dean's past but mostly Alistair and John. Dean's self hatred and fears of being abandoned. 
> 
> Notes - spoilers for the first part of the story: 
> 
> Dean has a flash of dream Sam saying Dean seduced John. The Mark had induced a nightmare trying to get Dean to kill Sam in which Sam taunted him.
> 
> When Dean was Abaddon's prisoner he pretended to be under a spell that forced him to love her to get her to trust him.
> 
> The angels had found a way to block Dean's prayers and phone calls/texts to Cas and Dean thought Cas was done with him.


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oberon's plans are revealed. Dean fights back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi here is the next chapter, part 2 basically from the last one. Again pretty triggering stuff here, see end for notes. 
> 
> I will probably post one more tonight with Sam and Cas. 
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments if you are enjoying the story. 
> 
> Thank you.

For the next couple of weeks, Dean existed like a spirit, trapped outside his body. It was different than when he was drugged, as he was aware of everything that was happening to him this time. He could feel every pain inflicted upon him, but he didn’t react. He just stayed in the safe place within his mind and firmly refused to budge. 

He felt himself be beaten and whipped by Oberon when he failed to respond. He felt himself be fed and cleaned by servants. He watched, like an out of body experience, Oberon bring several different types of fae into the cage to try their magic to bring Dean back to himself. He watched with a distant, muted sense of satisfaction when Oberon was worried and confused. He watched when it all switched to outright fury, his body once again subjected to pain and torture, and then soft caresses and whispers of love. It was Abaddon and the torture demons all over again, and if Dean could find it in himself to actually feel anything, he would laugh as Oberon became more distraught, more frustrated, and more angry. 

Which was why it was such a jarring shock when the blackness and numbness were violently jerked away from Dean. Emotions flooded through his body and mind, pain from Oberon’s assaults swept through his body. Dean cried out in agony at the overwhelming sensation. He was sure he was going to vomit when the pain was swiftly washed away with a wave of energy. Dean’s eyes snapped open as he simultaneously realized the cotton feeling of suppression was gone. The Mark was pulsing with energy, healing Dean’s body at an amazingly fast rate as a backed up flood of red pulsing power released throughout Dean’s body. 

Gasping for air, he staggered to his feet, taking in his surroundings, and then quickly looking down at his arm. Oberon’s band was gone. All that remained was Dean’s, and even that felt like it was barely keeping a hold of the Mark. The Mark, which was singing happily as it filled up Dean’s body and soul with power. 

“What?” Dean sputtered. “Why?” Dean looked at Oberon, eyes wide with disbelief. His right hand tightened on the comforting feeling of his Blade. 

Oberon gazed at Dean. He let out an incredulous “It worked,” practically oozing satisfaction and triumph. 

Dean’s brain was still trying to come back online as confusion warred with the Mark. Finally, things settled, and Dean felt like himself again. Well. Himself, before Oberon yanked him into this realm. 

“I had to find a way to get you back,” Oberon was explaining. “And it worked.” 

“You bastard,” Dean swore. He launched himself at Oberon, pushing him into the bars of the cage, and started to punch him viciously in the face. He was stopped when a large hand grabbed Dean’s wrists before he could sink the Blade into Oberon. Dean wasn’t sure that would kill him, but the satisfaction he would get would have been worth the attempt. 

Oberon’s eyes burned purple fire at the unexpected attack, and then he threw back his head and laughed.

“There’s my beautiful hunter. So full of fight and defiance. I have missed you so,” Oberon said. He yanked on Dean’s captured wrists, pulling him close before shifting slightly so only one hand was holding onto Dean. Using his free hand, Oberon cupped Dean’s jaw and brought his lips to Dean’s. “Welcome home,” Oberon murmured, before moving to deepen the kiss.

“Home? This isn’t my home,” Dean ground out, twisting his face to the side. “You think I’m just going to snap out of it and all of a sudden, fall at your feet and worship you?” 

Oberon glared at Dean’s words. It was Dean’s turn to laugh. “Oh, wow you’re so stupid, Oberon,” Dean said between his chuckles, yet his eyes held steady in their glare at Oberon. 

“I’ve already proven to you that your body craves mine, Dean. You belong to me. Stop fighting it. It’s too late.” Oberon said. Dean’s stomach turned in disgust at the gleam of lust and pride in Oberon’s eyes as he stared at Dean. 

“Fuck you,” Dean snarled. “You didn’t prove anything. Kill me, or let me go,” Dean demanded. He figured it would be in vain, but now that the Mark was no longer suppressed, the fight or flight response was pulsing through his whole body. And all Dean wanted to do was fight and kill this being who’d hurt him so much. “Listen up, Oberon. I will find a way to kill you, and I will find a way to go home.” Dean vowed. He smirked at the thunderous look that came over Oberon’s face while simultaneously backing away. He may have been pissed, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew how much Oberon could hurt him for his defiance, despite it being what Oberon claimed to “love.” 

“You are too stubborn for your own good, Dean. You would give up all of this, freedom from the blood lust, freedom from the hurt and condemnation of others, my protection, my love?” Oberon said, his voice getting lower and lower, filled with absolute rage, making Dean shake in dread. 

But then, Dean straightened his spine and glared back. “In a heartbeat,” Dean snarled. 

Dean didn’t even see Oberon’s hand. But he felt the strike across the side of his face like a sledgehammer. Dean was thrown to the ground with the force of it. Man, he was getting tired of these literal bitch slaps that Oberon seemed to favor. 

“So much for the tender and ‘I care for you’ approach,” Dean spit out the blood in his mouth, his tongue pushing against a loose tooth.  _ Great. I wonder if there are even dentists here? _ Dean thought and almost giggled at the irrational thought. 

Oberon reached down and pulled Dean up, slamming his back against the bars of his cage. Dean squirmed. Oberon flashed his eyes, and Dean’s arms were raised up, the golden strands attaching the cuffs to the bars. Oberon smirked, pressing his body against Dean’s. Basically pinned like a bug, all Dean could do was snarl and try to turn his head away from Oberon’s lips. “Tomorrow night completes the second moon cycle since I brought you home,” Oberon purred, licking at Dean’s ear. “You will become fae, and will never be able to leave this realm. So, stop fighting, and submit to me. You cannot win, my beautiful hunter.”

Dean gasped as Oberon bit down on his neck. Tears once again sprung to his eyes at the pain, and at how hopeless he felt, longing with everything within him to be able to sink back into the black void inside his mind. 

“Fuck you,” Dean growled. When Oberon tried to capture his lips in a kiss again, he grimaced, and bit down,  _ hard. _

The fucker just laughed, hands reaching around to cup Dean’s ass and pressing Dean close to him. Dean could feel the hard outline of Oberon’s cock pressing against his. 

“I am going to be inside you at the very moment you change, and we will be bound together for eternity.” Oberon purred.

“No,” Dean said, horror evident in his tone and face.

“Oh, yes.” Oberon chuckled darkly. “I can’t wait to see your wings, Dean. They will be a stunning emerald green. A rarity, as no fae have green wings. Just as none have purple wings like me. And over time, our colors will blend together. They will be magnificent, the envy of all.” Oberon said, his eyes alight with the image in his mind as his hands pinched and stroked Dean’s body. 

“Wings?” Dean gasped out. “What the hell are you talking about?” 

“When you become fae, you will grow wings,” Oberon stated, matter of factly. 

Dean’s eyes were wide and frightened. He didn’t want to become fae, and he certainly didn’t want to sprout wings. He wasn’t sure the Mark would even let him change, but Dean didn’t want to find out.

“I do wonder though,” Oberon mused. As if he’d read Dean’s mind, he ran his finger over the Mark, eliciting a sharp pain in Dean’s arm. “I wonder if this will change the color. Will there be red or black interwoven with the green?”

Dean just gaped at Oberon. “I don’t fucking care what color my  _ hypothetical  _ freak-ass wings will be!” Dean yelled.

Oberon started to get angry again. His moods were so mercurial it was hard to predict him, which Dean hated. He was so done right now, though. He didn’t care if he was whipped again, or starved, or whatever Oberon deemed suitable as punishment. 

Oberon stared at Dean for a long time before giving Dean an evil grin. “You know, I was so close to breaking through to your world. It would have been only days. Unfortunately, the little troll completed his summoning before I could finish. But all it took was a little crack for me to connect with you.” 

_ Where the hell was he going with this? _ Dean’s head spun with the sudden change in topic.

“All I need is another way in, another crack I can use to open a portal to your world. And then, since I won’t be bound by another’s wishes, I will destroy it, take as many slaves as I want, and you will be by my side the whole time,” Oberon laughed at the growing horror on Dean’s face.

“If you could have done that before me, you would have,” Dean responded numbly, thinking –  _ praying  _ – Oberon was bluffing. 

“No. I never had an opening until you. No one has ever left this realm once captured and brought here. But now,” Oberon’s smile widened, and Dean’s stomach dropped at the glee in his eyes. “Now, my beautiful hunter, I have another way in.” 

“What?” Dean’s voice shook with dread.

“A little bit of angel grace can go a long way,” Oberon replied with a smirk. He placed his hand over where Cas’ handprint was on his arm. Oberon’s hand dwarfed it, and Dean felt violated by the touch. And then Oberon’s words sunk in. 

“Oh, hell no, you son of a bitch!” Dean yelled. “I won’t let you–” 

“Oh, you won’t be able to stop me, Dean. Since I can’t rip out what that angel dared to put inside what is mine, I will use it. I will use it as a way in, and then I will open the portal, and the blame will be at your angel’s feet.” 

Dean shook his head. He couldn’t speak, mind too busy running through the implications of the fae invading his world. 

“I was nice to you, Dean, when I visited,” Oberon said and Dean snorted at the statement, thinking back to the many times Oberon had forced himself on Dean, or hurt him when he resisted. “Just think of what I’m going to do to your precious angel. To him, I will not be nice,” Oberon promised, a gleam in his eye at the thought of torturing Cas. 

It didn’t matter if what Oberon said about Cas was true. Now that the Mark was no longer suppressed, Dean found a kernel of hope in believing that it wasn’t the truth. Regardless, Dean wouldn’t – couldn’t let Cas be hurt, or his world be invaded. 

Dean focused on the Mark and latched onto the power. Wrenching his hands away from the bars, he took a second to delight in the look of shock on Oberon’s face before calling his Blade and attacking. 

\------

Dean moaned as pain rocketed through his body. He tried to crawl away from the hands that were causing him so much pain, his eyes on the First Blade sitting on the ground outside the cage. The Blade was unable to cross over the barrier of the bars. It had been thrown there when Oberon, tired of Dean’s attack, flung it. Dean shivered as he saw again how Oberon’s wings had crackled with power, the fae seemingly growing even taller as the warrior within him came to the surface. And Dean could easily see how Oberon had become king. He was  _ terrifying _ , and his power was beyond anything Dean had experienced before. Even with Oberon’s band no longer suppressing the Mark, Dean was no match for a fully charged, pissed off King of the Fairies. Dean had only gotten in a few hits before he found himself flung around and punched, electrocuted with every touch of Oberon's wings, and choked until he was on the verge of passing out. Dean had even tried at one point to remove his own band, willing to give up his humanity for beating and killing Oberon, but it wouldn’t budge. Apparently, Oberon wasn’t willing to let Dean take that final safeguard off. 

Oberon laughed victoriously as he grabbed Dean’s hips and yanked him back toward him. In one swift push, Dean felt himself impaled on Oberon’s large hard cock. He screamed as more pain shot through his body, and then shuddered in defeat as Oberon took him roughly in a display of ultimate dominance. 

“You are mine!” Oberon yelled. “For eternity,” Oberon vowed as he emptied himself into Dean. 

Oberon lifted Dean from the ground, and just like that, the caring, careful Oberon was back, and Dean hated him, hated him with every fiber of his being, more than his father, more than Abaddon, hell, even more than Alastair. Because although, as much pain and horror Alastair had put Dean through, he was consistent. He was black and white in his desires and actions, but Oberon was an enigma wrapped in a taco wrapped in purple fucking wings, and Dean couldn’t beat him. He had failed. Dean had given it his all, and for the first time since getting the Mark, he had utterly failed to save himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Non-con touching and kissing, then Oberon and Dean fight and Dean is hurt badly, Oberon violently rapes Dean.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas fills Sam in on what he knows about the fae.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi here is another chapter. Slight triggers only in this chapter. See end for notes.
> 
> Have a good weekend everyone. I'll try to post again on Sunday. 
> 
> Please leave kudos or comments or both!

Sam watched as Cas completed the last part of the summoning. Now, they just had to wait and hope that it would be answered. Sam was nervous going into this without much knowledge. He liked to research… and research… and then research some more before things like this, but time was of the essence they didn’t have the luxury to spend.

Sam looked at his watch and realized weeks had already passed in the fairy realm. Maybe even a month. He felt sick at the thought of what Dean was going through. When Dean had finally come clean about the monster who was invading his dreams, he had tried to not let on how bad things were. But Sam, despite everything that had happened between them, could still read his brother, and he could tell it was much worse than what Dean was letting on.  _ Why couldn’t you read him when you were kids? _ Sam thought, disgusted with himself. 

Sam thought again about the videos he had watched, and the harsh truths he had learned about Dean and his father – no. John, Sam thought. He never wanted to refer to that man as his father again. It was surreal. Sam couldn’t believe Dean had suffered so much while Sam had been completely in the dark. He felt rage and horror rise in him again, but he pushed those emotions aside. Now was not the time to dwell on those. If, no,  _ when _ they got Dean back, he was going to sit Dean down and have a long awaited heart-to-heart with him. 

Sam turned toward Cas, who looked wrecked with worry. “Cas, what do you know about Oberon, or the fairies and their realm?”

Cas looked contemplative for a few moments. “To be honest, Sam, I don’t know that much about them either. The treaty the angels made with the fairies was a millennia ago. I do know that Oberon has been around for a really long time, and has been the only King from what I’ve heard.” 

“There was never anyone else?” Sam asked in disbelief. 

“No. Oberon is extremely powerful, Sam,” Cas frowned in concentration for a few seconds before adding, “He is the equivalent of an archangel… or possibly even God in his realm. But their magic is different, so it is hard to tell.” 

Sam sucked a breath in at the news. “So, even if Dean found a way to fight him, and even with the Mark, he wouldn’t win, and…” Sam couldn’t finish, choking down tears as fear permeated him. 

Cas just sighed sadly. “No, Sam. I don’t believe he could ever win. I’m not even sure an archangel could win in a fight against Oberon. Maybe Lucifer…” Cas’s expression grew distant before he refocused on Sam, just as they simultaneously and vehemently declared, “ _ No.” _ That was not something to entertain. They would find another way, or hopefully, their plan would work. 

Sam watched Cas wringing his hands in nervousness. He kept looking at the summoning circle, and the more time that went by without an answer, the more antsy Cas got. Sam could relate because he felt about a second away from screaming in frustration himself. 

“So, these Old Ones. What’s the deal there?” Sam asked. He was trying to distract the both of them, but also get whatever information he could glean before he couldn’t any longer.

“They are believed to be the first fae and have varying levels of magic. From what I understand, these are the most powerful fae. They govern things to keep up traditions and customs, they keep Oberon’s power in check, and make sure he adheres to their rules and any treaties. It is with them that the treaty was made. I do not believe Oberon was happy with that. He always wanted a way to invade this world.” 

Cas paused and glanced at Sam, looking like he wanted to say something, but seemed to change his mind.

“What is it, Cas?” Sam pressed. “C’mon, man. I need to know everything you do.”

Cas sighed again. With a distraught expression, he continued. “Oberon is known to be extraordinarily possessive and incredibly stubborn, and he never gives up on what he wants.” 

_ Okay, why did that matter so much… Oh, shit.  _ “Fuck _. _ So with Dean, he’s not going to let go without a fight, is he?”

Cas shook his head. “Sam, Oberon has only been known to have had two prior,” Cas paused, visibly trying to find the right word before cringing, “consorts.” 

Sam’s eyes widened. “But he’s been alive since practically the beginning of time?”

“Yes,” Cas agreed. “He was with each one for a few centuries, but it has been a very, very long time since we have heard of him taking someone for himself.” 

Sam gulped at the news. “Were the others human?”

“No. One was fae, a male, and the other I believe was a demi-god of some sort, a woman.” 

“So, Dean is the first human? And even after, what, three-hundred? Four-hundred years after Dean escaped, Oberon’s still obsessed? What happened to the other consorts?” Sam asked. He wasn’t entirely certain he wanted to know the answer.

Cas looked at Sam with a grave expression. “It is rumored that he killed them in a jealous fit.”

Sam swallowed thickly. He was even more worried, thinking about how Dean didn’t have to do anything to invite attention, and if Oberon was that jealous, it was just one more thing stacked against Dean. 

“He’s not going to let Dean go without a fight.” Cas said. 

“Really?” Sam said, a touch skeptical.

Cas just nodded, adding softly, “I wouldn’t.” 

Sam wished with all his heart that Dean was ugly just so these monsters would stop obsessing over him. But Sam wasn’t oblivious to think it was all just Dean’s looks, especially now that his eyes have been opened to the way most people, and monsters too, saw his brother. There was just something about Dean that drew people to him like a moth to a flame. Sam suspected that even if Dean were average looking, people would still want to be in his orbit and do anything to be able to touch his light. So it certainly didn’t help matters that on top of all that, Dean was incredibly beautiful aesthetically as well. 

Sam thought again about what Dean was possibly going through. Even without knowing everything that happened when Oberon visited Dean in his dreams, the way Oberon looked at Dean left no doubt in Sam. And the way the bastard had put a collar on Dean, like he was some kind of pet… it was worse than how Crowley had treated Dean. Tears sprang to Sam’s eyes, worried and heartsick for his brother. 

“Cas,” Sam began. He was hesitant to voice his thoughts aloud, but he had to know if it was something they needed to consider. 

Cas looked up at Sam. His eyes narrowed at the hesitancy he must have seen displayed on Sam’s face. “What is it, Sam?” 

“Um. So… Maybe.” Sam took a deep breath. “Maybe we need to call Crowley to help?” Sam asked. He braced himself for anger, but was surprised when Cas just shook his head.

“I thought of that too, Sam,” Cas admitted, surprising Sam. “But he released Dean from his deal, so he has no hold on him anymore.” 

Sam looked at Cas with a bit of wonder, knowing how much it would have bothered Cas to have to ask Crowley for help. And yet, he himself had actually thought about doing just that. Cas’ devotion to Dean had always been a wonder to Sam, and even a cause for a bit of jealousy, but now he was just glad Cas was here with them and willing to do whatever it took to save Dean.

“What about Cain?” Sam ventured.

He jerked in surprise as Cas narrowed his eyes in anger, biting out a furious, “No!” Sam’s eyes widened at the stormy look on Cas’ face. “He is the father of murder,” Cas ground out. “I will not ask for his help.” 

“Cas,” Sam said quietly, unsure what to say.

Cas closed his eyes, looking as though he was counting to ten in his head. In a calmer voice, he finally continued. “Cain has no real claim on Dean, Sam.” 

“But he’s powerful,” Sam tried. 

Cas nodded, yet his eyes turned from angry to sad and somewhat defeated. “I agree, but not against Oberon. And I cannot imagine what he would ask for in return for his help.” 

Now they both sighed and sat there waiting, getting lost in their own thoughts. Sam’s gaze wandered around the room at the angels, still there and waiting to see what Cas wanted them to do. Metatron was seated, handcuffs still firmly trapping his wrists, and when he caught Sam’s eye, he waved his fingers at Sam with a knowing smirk. 

Sam’s eyes narrowed. His hands curled into a fist, wanting nothing more than to go and pound Metatron into the ground. Would’ve been even more satisfactory, now that he was human and no longer exempt from feeling even the slightest bit of pain.

Cas noticed the tension coming from Sam and looked around, seemingly taking notice of the angels for the first time since they started the summoning. Sam watched as Cas called Hannah over, telling her to take all the angels back to heaven and escort Metatron to prison. It caused her to begin arguing, about how she didn’t want to leave Cas, but he was adamant that they left. It was too big of a risk, the angels could be hurt or possibly taken like the others. Hannah finally relented. She walked back to Metatron and grabbed him. 

“Wait, no. I want to watch the show,” Metatron whined as he struggled against Hannah’s grip. She was already dragged him to the door anyway, though, when Sam yelled out, halting them before Metatron was completely out of sight.

“Why did you do it?” Dramatically pausing and turning, Metatron grinned.

“Why did I do what?”

“Why did you do that to Dean?” Sam demanded. 

Metatron shrugged. “I did what any leader would do, Sam. I eliminated the biggest threat. And if it happened in a way that hit Castiel where it really hurts at the same time, well, that just made it really irresistible.” 

Cas gasped next to Sam, but showed a surprising amount of control and held himself in check. 

“But you had to know what Oberon was going to do to him, what he wanted from Dean.” Sam said, rage pulsing through his body again. He stood up and started to walk toward Metatron, only to be held back by Cas’ hand on his shoulder. 

Metatron shrugged again, but he couldn’t hold back the glee in his eyes, if he even bothered to try. “Oh, that just made the story more juicy,” he replied, rubbing his hands together. “I have to admit, though. I didn’t anticipate Oberon being able to maintain a connection and torment Dean before the final summoning. I didn’t really think he was so taken with our little Knight to be,” Metatron smirked. “Personally, I don’t get what all the fuss is about,” Metatron added. “Ah, anyway. It was just icing on the cake.” Metatron laughed. Unable to contain himself any longer, Sam tried to launch himself across the room.

“Woah, hold your horses, Sam.” Now, Metatron sounded nervous as Sam continued to struggle against Cas’ arms. “I don’t really see why you’re so upset,” Metatron said. The angel didn’t know when to keep his trap shut even if to save his hide, but Sam paused when he registered Metatron’s confusion to be genuine. Sam’s mouth dropped open in shock. 

“What? It’s not like you wanted anything to do with Dean. You did disown him, Sam, and he was already shacking up with a demon – the King of Hell, no less. So what’s another monster he parts those pretty bowed legs for?” Metatron cackled when both Sam and Cas’ faces reddened in fury. 

Hannah, with an apologetic expression, finally and wisely pushed Metatron out of the room.

“Cas, let me go,” Sam demanded, but deflated once Metatron was out of the room. Sam was going to be sick. Metatron had looked genuinely surprised. Did everyone really think Sam just stopped caring about Dean, that he was okay with whatever happened to him? And if outsiders thought that, then what the hell was Dean actually thinking? Sam knew how little Dean thought of himself, and after everything that had happened with the bunker and the Mark, there was no way Dean wasn’t believing he was on his own again.

Sam just hoped he would get the chance to make sure Dean knew how much he really meant to him, and that Sam would never turn away from him again. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only triggers are Sam thinking about Dean's past and the videos.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Old Ones convene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Happy Sunday, hope you all had a good weekend. I have a nice long chapter for you because there was not really a good place to split it. Nothing too triggering in this chapter. 
> 
> Thank you for leaving kudos and comments. They really make my day when I see them.

While Oberon held Dean close, murmuring sweet nothings like the last hour full of violence hadn’t happened, an old wizened fairy approached the cage. 

Oberon growled in anger. He jerked the sheet over Dean, covering him. 

“You dare lay your eyes on what is mine, Banu?” Oberon challenged, getting up and striding over to fairy.

The older fairy didn’t seem fazed at all by Oberon’s outburst. He just handed Oberon a scroll.

Oberon tore it open. Shock and – was that a little bit of fear? – flashed across his face, before the familiar rage filled it, wiping any other expression away. 

“No.” Oberon crumbled the scroll in his hand.

“You cannot say no. You must present yourself to the Old Ones, Oberon. It is our laws.” The wizened fairy flew away, saying nothing else.

Oberon turned and looked at Dean. A cold spike fear washed over Dean. It was the same look John had in his eyes when the door slammed behind Sam as he walked away from them, and Dean knew he was in for a world of hurt, well more than he’d had already.

Oberon stalked over to the bed. Once again, Dean was on the receiving end of a vicious backhand. If it wasn’t so painful, he’d be well and thoroughly done with Oberon’s violence. He then grabbed Dean, his arms around his biceps as he shook him violently. “You think this will work? It won’t. I. Won’t. Let. You.  _ Go _ ,” Oberon swore and then kissed Dean roughly. 

“What the hell is going on?” Dean asked. He scrambled out of bed when Oberon threw him down, but Oberon had already left the cage. 

“Oberon!” Dean yelled, dread pooling heavily in his gut.

Oberon reappeared outside the cage, and did the unthinkable. He unlocked it. Amazed, Dean offered no resistance as he was pulled out of the cage. A pair of soft pants were thrown at him. 

“What’s happening?” Dean asked again as he struggled to get into the pants. His injuries from their fight had not yet healed, which made moving difficult. 

Oberon was vibrating with fury and pacing back and forth as Dean got dressed. Still not saying a word, he spun Dean around and chained his hands behind him. With an evil smirk, Oberon stepped closer and clipped a chain to Dean’s collar. Tugging on the end of it, he pulled Dean forward.

“Maybe this will be what finally makes you realize who you belong to. You will get to see them die in front of your eyes, and then you will have to accept that we will be together for eternity,” Oberon said darkly.

“Who?” Even as he desperately prodded Oberon for more answers, his confusion was slowly yet steadily turning to horror at Oberon’s overall demeanor. But Oberon just yanked at him. Dean tried to dig in his heels, but he was way too injured, and Oberon was as always too strong, so he was pulled along out of room or risk getting choked. Before Dean could even take in the surroundings of the hallway inside Oberon’s palace, he stumbled and fell. When he looked up, he was in another place entirely. Gagging at a particularly rough pull on the chain from Oberon, Dean got to his feet with difficulty. Daring to look around, he gasped in shock and disbelief.

They were outside in a grove surrounded by giant stones. It was rather similar to Stonehenge. A C-shaped oak table was on one side where nine fey were seated, all old and wizened like the one who had given Oberon the scroll. There were two empty seats, and Oberon was headed in that direction, but what caught Dean’s eyes were the two figures standing on the other side of the circle, facing the table of fae. 

Dean blinked. The sight in front of him didn’t change. It was Sam and Cas, both standing there, staring at Dean with… relief? But as their eyes roved over his body and took in his injuries and chains, they turned to glare at Oberon. Cas’ eyes started to burn blue, but Banu, the fae who seemed to be in charge, spoke in a powerful tone, which was odd coming from such a small and frail looking creature. 

“Control yourself, seraph,” he ordered. Cas jerked slightly, but his eyes returned to normal. He tried to relax the rest of his body. Sam, who had also raised his hands in anger, also visibly tried to relax his fists, and schooled his face into a blank mask. 

So caught up in what was happening, Dean didn’t even realize Oberon had pulled them over to their seats until he was roughly pulled down onto it. Oberon then unchained his hands from his behind his back and secured them together in front. That made Dean feel a little better, although he was mortified that his angel and brother had seen him pulled around like a dog.

Oberon leaned down and whispered in Dean’s ear, repeating what he said before. “I was upset they dared call on the Old Ones, but this is good,” Oberon purred. Dean flinched as Oberon licked his earlobe, his eyes shooting to Cas and then sliding away quickly, ashamed at the display. “I’m going to love watching you watch them die,” he said. Dean’s eyes widened. 

He looked up, desperately locking eyes with his brother. “Sammy, what’s going on? What are you guys doing here?”

Sam gave Dean a smile. “We’ve come to take you home.” 

“But – why?” Dean asked, confused and overwhelmed. 

Sam’s face saddened. But before he could respond, Banu stood up and began to talk.

“We have convened a counsel of the Old Ones at the request of Castiel, Angel of Thursday, and Samuel Winchester, brother of Oberon’s property.” 

“Property, my ass,” Dean growled. The fae’s attention turned to Dean, and he frowned. Oberon pulled Dean tight against him and squeezed hard.

“Show some respect, Dean,” he ordered. Dean opened his mouth to make another smart ass comment when he saw Cas looking at him, silently shaking his head. With difficulty, Dean nonetheless kept his mouth shut. His heart felt lighter at the small smile Cas threw at him when he saw Dean back down. 

After nothing else from Dean, the fae resumed his spiel, turning to look at Oberon as he explained that Oberon’s claim of the human had been challenged. “Are you prepared to defend your claim?” The fae asked. Oberon looked and sounded confident when he agreed loudly.

Banu turned back to Sam and Cas. “I remind you two of the consequences of summoning this council. Your individual claims will act as one, and judgment will be for both of you together.” Sam and Cas voiced their understanding. “You are aware that any falsehoods will be seen by us and you will forfeit your claim and pay the penalty?” They agreed. Dean frowned at the mention of a penalty. “And most importantly, you understand that in the event that you fail to prove your claim, the price of your failure will be the forfeit of your lives?”

Cas and Sam said yes just as Dean screamed out. “No!” Everyone was taken by surprise while Dean’s entire body was shaking in fear. What the hell are they doing? Why would they risk their lives for Dean? It didn’t compute, but  _ Save Sammy _ was roaring through his head, and he knew he had to stop this. 

“No. They don’t agree. I won’t allow it!” Dean yelled, jumping to his feet. 

“Silence!” The fae command. “You have no say in these proceedings.” 

“The hell I don’t have a say here,” Dean snarled, but then screamed as he felt a shock of pain rip through his body. 

Gasping from the assault, he looked at Sam, silently pleading with his eyes.  _ No, Sammy, please. Just go _ . But Sam just shook his head. Turning toward Cas, he only received a similar response.

Heart racing a mile a minute, his body trembling in fear and frustration, Dean turned toward Oberon as a last resort. “Please, Oberon. Stop this. I won’t fight you anymore, I’ll–I’ll be good,” Dean said. His mouth felt foul to utter those words, but if it kept Sam and Cas from this suicide mission they were on, he would do whatever it took.

Oberon’s eyes darkened with lust hearing Dean beg him, but Banu cleared his throat in warning. Oberon just smirked. “It’s out of my hands.” 

“What the fuck do you mean, ‘“It’s out of my hands?’” Dean exclaimed. His chains jangled as he pulled a Cas and made air quotes. “You’re the goddamn King!”

“Yes, he is,” Banu answered instead. His composure was finally starting to crack as he looked at Dean in anger. “But we, as the Old Ones, have the final say in this realm on certain matters, and even King Oberon does not have a voice here in this court other than to defend his claim.”

“But–but–that’s just … stupid,” Dean stammered out, his mind racing. The fae glared at Dean now, and another wave of pain ripped through his body. Dean screamed in agony, falling to the ground. From his peripherals, Dean saw Sam and Cas start forward, only to be held back by the fae’s power as Dean continued to writhe on the floor. Dean felt the Mark flare up in response to the assault as it tried to combat the pulse of energy. It was tearing Dean apart, yet for a second, it seemed like it was working. 

Banu’s eyes widened. “Interesting,” he murmured. And then the pain got worse, and even the Mark couldn’t block out the agonizing bolts of pain going through his body. Oberon’s face became thunderous as he stood up, his wings flared.

“Enough.” 

Banu smiled, looking delighted at Oberon’s response. “So, all the talk about your attachment to this human is true. You would stand here and defy us because he is in pain. Pain he deserves,” Banu glared at Dean, and the pain, unbelievably enough, spiked further.

Oberon just nodded, his eyes purple lasers of light. 

All the Old Ones started chatting excitedly to themselves. Banu waved a hand, and the pain stopped. Dean slumped down into the chair, gulping in much needed air. His muscles felt like noodles, and he felt Oberon’s warm hands stroking him.

“Just breathe. It will feel better soon.” Oberon crooned. 

Dean wanted to rip himself away from Oberon, but weak as a kitten as he was, he just gritted his teeth. 

“I trust we will have no more interruptions,” the fae looked pointedly at Dean. Momentarily defeated, he just nodded, unable to speak with the pain taking its time to recede from his body. 

With one last glare at Dean, Banu turned toward Sam and Cas. 

“Angel of Thursday, we will hear your proof.”

Cas stepped forward, standing tall as his wings flared out behind him. They were huge and caused a shadow to fall on the clearing as the sun glinted off their shiny feathers. This was Castiel, warrior of heaven, and Dean was awestruck at the sight. He was magnificent. 

Oberon tightened his grip on Dean’s arm, his hold painful, as he took note of the look on Dean’s face. Dean kept his jaw clenched and studiously ignored him.

“Old Ones,” Cas tilted his head in deference at the title. “King Oberon’s claim is invalid, because when I raised Dean Winchester from perdition, I laid claim to his soul,” Castiel said. The Old Ones tittered at his response. 

Cas continued. “If you would look closely at Dean, you can see the grace that remains in him.” 

“Is this a normal occurrence?” One of the fae asked, intrigued.

Castiel smiled and shook his head. “No, it has never happened before. For some reason, Dean’s soul and my grace bonded to each other,” Dean smiled at that. He thought back to all the times Cas said he and Dean shared a profound bond, but he never really thought about what exactly that meant. 

All the fae swung their gazes at Dean, and Banu ordered Dean to stand. Oberon tightened his fingers for a minute like he was going to protest, but then let Dean go.

Cas’ eyes burned blue as he waved a hand at Dean. His handprint glowed on Dean’s arm. 

There were a few gasps, and Dean actually heard Oberon grind his teeth together in anger at seeing Cas’ mark on Dean. 

“That is very compelling,” Banu said, and the other fae nodded. He turned to Oberon. “Your response?”

Oberon actually looked nervous as his gaze swung back and forth between Dean and Cas. But then a slow smile spread across his face, and Dean once again felt dread creep across his body. 

“I agree, Old Ones. That is very compelling, and would be even more so had the Angel actually claimed Dean. Alas,” Oberon said, pausing for effect. “He did not.” 

Dean watched as Cas’ face paled. 

“Is that true?” Banu asked, sounding surprised. “Have you not staked your claim and laid with the human, thus completing your bonding?” Cas actually blushed at the question, but then, with his shoulders slumped slightly and with defeat in his eyes, he admitted that he hadn’t. 

Dean’s eyes widened in fear. Tears filled his eyes as it was clear that Cas’ claim was not going to be honored. If he wasn’t such a chicken shit and had let Cas know his feelings for the angel, he might’ve been able to go home by now. Dean dismissed the selfish thought as quickly as it rose up. He saw Sam pat Cas on the shoulder, murmuring quiet consolations that he could barely hear. “We’re still going to win.”

Dean hoped with everything in him that Sam was right. They couldn’t die trying to rescue Dean. He wasn’t worth their lives. 

After a brief conference with the other Old Ones, Banu shook his head at Cas. “Your claim is denied.” Banu said. Oberon sat back in his chair, arms folded confidently as he smiled wide at the announcement. “Samuel Winchester, we will hear your claim.” 

Sam stepped forward. He straightened up to his full height, which was rather impressive, Dean wasn’t stupid enough to be oblivious to that. Yet, Oberon actually snorted, and Banu shot him a look of warning. Sam ignored Oberon and addressed the council.

“Thank you, your ho–uh. Old Ones,” Sam corrected with a sheepish smile. It was Dean’s turn to snort at Sam turning on his lawyer mode. Sam shot Dean an exasperated look, but Banu was not amused. Dean braced himself for more pain, but luckily, he only received a glare. 

“It is my understanding that the fae believe in destiny, and that they also put great value on the idea of souls,” Sam stated, sounding a little nervous despite his posture. When the fae all nodded their agreement, though, he started to gain more confidence.

“Even though Dean Winchester is my brother,” Sam said. He paused, turning to look at Dean and sending him a smile again, shocking Dean. Sam was smiling at him. Was this an act for the council, or was he really truly smiling at Dean? 

Forcing himself to pay attention and not fall down that rabbit hole of doubt, he listened as Sam continued. “Even though Dean is my brother, my claim supersedes Oberon’s, as we are, in fact, soulmates.” Dean's eyes widened. He could vaguely recall Ash saying something about that when they were in heaven, but he’d never really thought about it… 

The fae all looked shocked at the statement. “Soulmates are a very rare and wondrous thing,” Banu finally said, after a moment of silently gaping at Sam, mouth opening and closing like a damn fish. Huh. A sea-fairy. Or maybe a–

“Yes,” Sam agreed, cutting through Dean’s thoughts. “But it is true. One of the times we died,” the fae all started to chatter excitedly again. Sam gave them a small smile, huffing slightly to himself in amusement at their reaction. “So, as I was saying. One of the times we died, Dean and I shared a heaven. And that is when we were told about us being soulmates.”

Banu turned to Cas. “Angel of Thursday, is this true?” 

“Yes. Cas replied. “Sam and Dean are both vessels of archangels, and heaven has paid special attention to them. That they are in fact soulmates is a known fact.”

Dean looked at Oberon, who had a dark murderous look. Clearly never knowing when to keep his mouth shut, Dean muttered, “Take that.” Oberon growled in anger and wrapped his hand around Dean’s throat, jerking him forward. Dean grasped at Oberon’s hands, trying to pull them away, when Banu turned to Oberon to hear his response and scowled when he noticed what Oberon was doing to Dean.

“Control yourself, Oberon,” the fae ordered. Dean was finally able to gasp for air as his throat was released. He saw, through of the spots dancing in his vision, that Cas had angrily started toward them, but thankfully, Sam was holding him back. Even if his brother looked like it was taking everything in him to not be stepping forward and giving Oberon a piece of his mind himself. Making eye contact with Cas, Dean gave a small shake of his head. With narrowed eyes, Cas reluctantly nodded. 

Oberon stayed silent. The fae collectively waited for his response, some even going so far as to sit forward in their seats in anticipation. 

Finally, Oberon, after staring intently into Deans’ eyes, looked at Sam and responded. “Once again, I agree that is a significant claim,” he said, surprising everyone. Oberon smirked, Dean’s stomach clenching as Oberon continued. “However, if one or the other denies the bond, it lessens its significance, basically rendering it obsolete. Is that not true?” Oberon asked Banu, who nodded curiously. 

Sam paled. Dean looked back and forth, not following, but his heart racing anyway in fear.

“Your point?” Banu pressed. 

“My point is that Samuel Winchester’s claim of soulmates is invalid by his very own disputing of the bond,” Oberon walked over to Sam and looked down at him. “Isn’t that right, Samuel?” Oberon demanded. Sam looked around nervously. 

Before he could respond, Oberon stepped back so the council could see Sam. “Tell the council, Samuel, how you have walked away and abandoned your so called soulmate multiple times throughout your lives, thereby essentially turning your back and denying the bond,” Sam didn’t respond, but his eyes were wide with worry and regret. 

Oberon continued with an evil smile at Sam’s distress. “And doesn’t it render the bond of no significance when you have, in addition to continuously walking away, kept secrets and lied to him over and over?” Oberon began to list out. “Chose a demon over him? Locked him up and treated him like a monster?” Oberon was ticking off his fingers. He paused dramatically with a finger in mid air before stating the last one. “And tried to kill your brother, your so called soulmate, on several occasions?” 

The fae all gasped in shock. Sam, if possible, paled further. He looked like his legs were going to give out on him, but Cas grasped his elbow, giving him support. 

“No, that… it doesn’t…” Sam started weakly, but Oberon just continued on, his voice stronger now that he had the upper hand. 

“Old Ones, while all that is horrible and inconceivable that someone could treat my love, my heart, in such a despicable manner and that, in and of itself, makes Samuel Winchester’s claim nonsense, he has done something even worse.” 

Again, the Old Ones sat forward in their seats with anticipation. If Sam and Cas’ lives – and his – weren’t on the line here, he wouldn’t have blamed them. Call Oberon drama queen of the year, but he knew what he was doing – after all, what could Sam done that had to be worse than what Oberon had already said? 

Oberon turned back to Sam. “Did you, or did you not,” Oberon paused, yet again. See? Drama queen. “Disown your brother?” Oberon demanded with a satisfied smirk. 

Like a well receptive audience at a play, gasps were heard all around – including from Dean himself as the pain of that memory sliced through him all over again. _““I can’t trust you. I’m saying you want to work let’s work, if you want to be brothers…”_

With a huge smile on his face, Oberon turned and made eye contact with each member of the council. “Please, tell the court, Samuel,” Oberon said with a sneer of disgust. “What crime did your brother commit against you, that was so foul, so horrendous, that it caused such a drastic and irrevocable response from you?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times. He looked desperately at Cas, who had panic and fear written all over him. “I…” Sam started, sounding small.

Oberon’s voice boomed over his response. “Was it because Dean did what he has done countless times? Was it that he did the unthinkable, the unforgivable? That he dared to…  _ Save. Your. Life?” _

\----

There was silence from the council. Dean’s ears were ringing from the heaviness of it. Banu looked at Sam, a questioning expression on his face. When Sam didn’t meet his eyes, looking down instead with lips pursed, Banu began to speak. “Based on the evidence–”

“I would like to make a further statement,” Sam interrupted. Banu narrowed his eyes dangerously, but nodded. 

“While what Oberon said is true,” Sam admitted. “And I can stand here for hours and list the extenuating circumstances around those incidents, but the crux of the matter is, they don’t matter.” Sam stated firmly.

“Siblings, brothers, family – we fight. We disappoint each other, and we say all kinds of things to hurt each other during those moments in time. But all that matters is what is in our hearts. We are family,” Sam said with conviction, turning to look at Dean.

Dean’s mouth went dry. He stared at Sam, hope daring to fill his heart. They couldn’t lie here… and if Sam said that, then he had to mean it. Could it be… that Sam wasn’t going to wash his hands of Dean again? 

Sam stood up straighter again, confidence returning. “You can see into our hearts, into my heart, and that is all that matters. I made a lot of mistakes and hurt my brother terribly–”

“It wasn’t all your fault, Sammy. I hurt you too,” Dean cut in, unable to resist letting the council know that. He didn’t want to see Sam taking on the burden of guilt alone, but he braced himself anyway to feel pain at interrupting. He was surprised to see a soft look on Banu’s face instead. 

“… But all that matters at the end of the day,” Sam continued in a softer tone, keeping his eyes on Dean. “Is that I love my brother. He loves me, and our souls are two halves of one. To separate them goes against the laws of our universe. 

“Thank you.” Sam finished, finally glancing at the fae. He stepped back, only to look back at Dean again with an indescribable look.

For a moment, Dean wondered if he was dreaming. If he was still lost in a haze of Oberon’s drug, and this was all just a fantasy his mind conjured up.

The fae had started talking only to fall silent as Oberon stood up so quickly, his chair was flung backwards by the force of his action. 

Everyone turned to look at Oberon as he looked furious and scared. Wait. Scared? Dean dared to wonder if that meant… were they were going to win? 

“No. I will not allow it,” Oberon said, voice thunderous. He pulled Dean forward with the chain, making him stumble. Dean grabbed the chain with his hands and tried to pull back. 

“Oberon,” Banu warned. “Stop. We have made our decision. You will release the human.” 

“No,” Oberon snarled. “I am King and have been for millennia. My claim is just, and you will not take Dean away from me.”

Unimpressed, the fae waved a hand at Dean. The collar and wrist manacles opened and fell at his feet. Both Dean and Oberon almost fell as the push–pull force was suddenly gone, but then Oberon stood, quick to regain his composure. He seemed to grow in height, just like he had in the cage when they had fought, and his wings crackled with power. 

“No,” Oberon repeated. Banu pointed at Oberon. He stepped back as he was hit with Banu’s power. Dean backed out of the way, but Oberon seemed to shake off the hit like it was a mild disturbance. His eyes glowed, and his fury was palpable in the air as he threw out a hand. The fae all cried in shock as Banu was suspended in the air by Oberon’s power.

Baun gasped and squirmed his old eyes wide with terror and shock, but he was held fast by Oberon's power. Loud, sickening cracks were heard as Banu’s neck and countless bones in his body were snapped and then a bright pink light shot out of the wizened fae. Snarling, Oberon released his power, and Banu’s broken body crumbled to the ground. The rest of the fae jumped up and rushed over to the body, crying out in grief.

Dean was shocked and terrified as Oberon then turned his attention toward Cas and Sam. Dean watched as if in slow motion as Oberon pulled out a few of those fucking golden threads. With a whisper, they formed themselves into two spears. 

Oberon brought his hand back and threw them. “No!” Dean screamed. Dean had no doubt they would find their marks. Dean couldn’t believe Oberon’s words were coming true, he couldn’t believe watching his brother and angel die in front of him was actually coming true. 

Horror coursed through Dean as his mind screamed  _ Save Sammy, Save Cas, Save Sammy. _ The Mark, surprisingly, responded to the threat against Sam by releasing a pulse of power that propelled Dean forward faster than a human should be able to move. Dean dove sideways in the air and Dean, Cas, and Sam all screamed as the spears sunk into flesh.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence, non-con touching, kissing, references to abuse. Blood and gore.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi sorry this took so long after leaving it on a cliffhanger. I just have a few minutes so I am posting one chapter now and will post another one or two tomorrow. 
> 
> Thank you for the comments! That was really great to get them.
> 
> See end for triggers but nothing major.

Sam wanted to punch his fist in the air and whoop with joy. They had won. He knew it as soon as he finished his speech and saw the looks on the Old Ones’ faces, and most especially the look on Oberon’s. Sam had finally, after all these years managed to save Dean, and he couldn’t wait to give his brother a much needed hug. He hoped that this proved to Dean just how much he really meant to Sam, and that they could work past all the secrets, hurt, and betrayal. 

When Dean had first appeared in the clearing, still chained like a goddamn dog, Sam had been dismayed at how hurt Dean was physically. But when Dean looked at him and asked, “Why?” when Sam said he was here to take him home… the deep abyss of pain, and the defeated look in his eyes, almost did Sam in. He knew, deep down, that Dean more than likely felt he was on his own, but hearing that confirmation was devastating. It was made worse since Sam had only himself to blame. And then Dean had to go and still try to share the burden of the breakdown of their relationship when addressing the council, after everything. It was just so–so–well… Dean. 

Sam’s giddiness turned into shock when Oberon killed Banu. Sam heard Cas’ gasp of shock too. From what little he’d gathered, Sam knew this was a great offense. The Old Ones were protected, the final law, and Oberon just obliterated one of them rather than lose Dean. And Oberon was so unbelievably powerful. When he stood up, he seemed to grow another foot, and his wings crackled with power. It made Sam’s mind flash to Lucifer and his fear ratcheted up. 

Stunned by the violent death, Sam watched in confusion as Oberon took some small golden strands and whispered a spell. Sam glanced quickly at Dean, looking for an explanation, but the look of fear on Dean’s face froze him for a second. By the time he turned back to Oberon, the strands were spears, and all Sam could do was stare like a deer in the headlights as Oberon released them toward him and Cas.

Sam could only stand there knowing he and Cas were about to become intimately acquainted with those golden spears. And then, Sam wanted to tear his hair out and scream once again as his self-sacrificing, too brave for his own good, stupid, idiot of a brother somehow managed to move at a super human speed and fling himself into the path of the spears. In slow motion, all Sam could do was watch as they both impaled Dean, and he crumbled to the ground. 

Sam wasn’t sure who looked more shocked in that split second before everyone burst into a flurry of action. Sam and Cas, at watching the person they came to save, falling practically at their feet, stabbed with blood flowing out of his body; the Old Ones, who were keening in grief as they surrounded the broken body of Banu; or Oberon himself. 

\-----------

Oberon was full of fury and betrayal. It felt almost as bad as when his own brother had taken his heart away from him. But now these Old Ones, who Oberon tolerated because all of the fae followed traditions closely and they were just a part of this realm, usually a minor thorn in Oberon’s side but a necessity nonetheless – now they dared, after hundreds of years of waiting and just as many unsuccessful attempts at creating a portal to bring Dean back to him, they dared rule against him? 

Previous claims. What nonsense. They were of no importance – certainly not of that angel who dared mark what was his and keep him out of Dean’s dreams. Who Dean’s heart longed for when it should be Oberon’s it belonged to. And that brother of Dean’s, claiming soulmates matter, despite all of his betrayals and abandonments, who had more undeserved love and sacrifice heaped upon him by Dean, and would continue to just take and take if Dean went back. 

No! Dean was better off with him. Oberon knew this, and he was not going to let these old, dried up fae steal his beautiful hunter from him. 

So, with power thrumming through his body, Oberon easily lifted the betrayer up, burnt him inside out, and crushed his bones for good measure. Oberon watched in satisfaction as Banu’s broken body hit the ground. He would do the same to all the Old Ones if necessary, traditions and customs be damned. 

But then Oberon watched, shocked and horrified as his spears, intended to take away the last two obstacles to keeping Dean forever, plunged themselves into Dean’s beautiful body instead. His cry of anguish echoed through the clearing as he fell forward, reaching for his Dean, whose blood was emptying into the earth. He had to fix him, make him better, and hope that Mark on Dean’s arm would keep him alive long enough for him to do so. 

However, as Oberon went to pull Dean into his arms, he found himself frozen in place. His eyes flicked to the Old Ones who had joined hands and somehow managed to raise an extremely potent circle of power. Oberon fought against it, but he felt himself weakened by the chants and magic of the Old Ones. He was seized with agonizing pain that twisted his body and caused him to collapse. 

Gorgeous pain riddled green eyes met his for a moment. Just before Oberon was forcefully flown out of the clearing, his Dean, in another act of defiance, despite being in the throes of death, weakly raised his hand in a vulgar gesture, causing fury to override his worry. 

_ “Oh, my beautiful hunter. So magnificent, and such a fighter.” _ Oberon thought and his mind flashed to the all the ways his human will pay for that once they were united again. 

\----------

Dean crashed to the ground as Sam and Cas screamed his name. One spear embedded in his chest, near his right shoulder, and the other on his left side, just above his hip. 

Dean, still running high on adrenaline, tried to sit up, but was unable to as agonizing pain shot through his body. The Mark was thrumming and spreading heat through his body like wildfire. Dean saw that the Old Ones had formed a circle around Banu’s body and joined hands. The air was thick with power and magick, from Oberon, and now the fae, as a circle of light grew around them. Dean faintly heard chants coming from the fae and Oberon, in the process of starting toward Dean, froze. Dean sent a silent prayer of thanks to those old fae. The last thing Dean wanted as he died was to be in Oberon’s hated arms. They thrust their hands out and Oberon seized up, his whole body contorted in pain as he dropped to the ground.

With light still emanating from their hands, Oberon managed to open his eyes. Purple lasers of light focused on Dean’s face. As the last of the adrenaline left his body, Dean managed to find the energy to chuck Oberon the finger. He smiled to himself in satisfaction as fury erupted from Oberon’s eyes, before Dean’s body went limp and sunk into the ground, moist and soft from his blood.

Cas and Sam reached Dean a second later, and they both looked stricken. “Dean, you stupid..... How could you do that?” Sam cried – literally, as tears were running down his cheeks. His hands fluttered over Dean’s body, as if unsure what to do. 

“Sammy… Cas,” Dean whispered. He grasped one of Sam’s hands, and then grabbed Cas with his other hand. “You alright?” Dean croaked out. His mouth was so dry, he almost couldn’t form the words.

\-----------

Sam gaped at his brother, his self-sacrificing brother who just saved Sam’s life again, in shock and wonder. His elation at knowing he had won after addressing the court had long since turned sour, and he felt like throwing up as he once again looked down at his dying and bleeding brother. The sight was heartbreaking, despite the many times he found himself in this position.

Why? Why did Dean have to always do this? They came here to save him, and now he was dying after saving  _ their _ lives. He was so bruised and beaten when he had first arrived, Sam was amazed that he was even able to walk, let alone propel himself through the air like some kind of human missile intercepting its target. 

“Cas!” Sam cried out as Cas placed a hand near each of the spears. 

“Sam, pull the spears out,” Cas ordered. His eyes never left Dean’s face, so he didn’t miss the small smile he was given before Dean’s eyes rolled back and he passed out. 

Sam pulled them out after a brief moment of hesitancy. Bright white light emanated from the angel’s hands, but the wounds weren’t closing.

“No, no, no!” Cas cried in despair. 

“What’s wrong?” Sam demanded.

Cas looked up, tears in his eyes. “My grace, I just got it back. I’m not at full strength yet. I–I don’t…”

“Seraph, let me help,” one of the remaining Old Ones said. Cas and Sam whipped their heads up with identical looks of hope. 

“Keep trying,” the Old One instructed. He placed his hands on Cas shoulders. Pink light flooded from the Old One and into Cas, and in turn, Cas’s grace became more powerful. Dean’s fatal wounds slowly closed, knitting together. 

Cas and the Old One both looked drained. Sam straightened up on his knees and hugged the unsuspecting fae. “Thank you.  _ Thank you _ ,” Sam repeated emphatically, before hugging Cas, who smiled and also thanked the fae once released from Sam’s tight grip.

“A great injustice was done here,” the Old One replied. “It was the least we could do,” He looked down at Dean with an indiscernible look. “This human is… I find I have no words,” the fae said, still looking down at Dean. He then clapped his hands and looked up. “Let us get you home,” he said, while raising his hands up and summoning a portal of light. 

Cas scooped Dean up bridal style. Sam made a mental note to tease Dean about that later. Just before they stepped through the portal, Sam stopped and turned back to the fae. “What will happen to Oberon?”

“He will be punished for his actions,” the fae responded, putting his hands out in supplication. “But he is still the king…” 

“But—” Sam started to say, but the fae waved him silent.

“We will do our utmost to ensure another portal is not opened. That is all we can do. He’s the–” 

“–King. Yeah, I get it,” Sam finished, unhappily. 

The fae looked apologetic for his part. Sam just nodded. He was furious that Oberon would remain King and only be punished for his crimes. Personally, he deserved to die for what he put Dean through. Sam could only imagine how Dean must have suffered and how long it would take his brother to heal. And now that Sam knew what Dean had been dealing with his whole life, Sam couldn’t help but worry that this might finally be the time he broke. For once, Sam dearly wished to be wrong.

With a final nod, they stepped through the portal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vague references to abuse. Blood and gore.


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is confused. Sam witnesses something eye opening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, here are two more chapters. Again they kind of go together but I split them up due to the length.
> 
> We are getting close to the end but there is still plenty of angst for Dean before it is all resolved.
> 
> I have to take another opportunity to thank my beta AnotherWorld3111. At this point in the story I was kind of stuck. I had written the last two chapters and did not know where to go to get there and with a few awesome suggestions from her I was able to get back on track. She is amazingly talented and I was very lucky to have her work with me on this story.
> 
> Minor triggers for this chapter.

Dean was shocked and terrified as Oberon then turned his attention toward Cas and Sam. Dean watched, the world around him slowing down to allow Dean to watch with frightening clarity as Oberon pulled out a few of those fucking golden threads. With a whisper, they formed themselves into two spears. 

“ _ No! _ ” Dean screamed as Oberon brought his hand back and threw the spears with a flick of his wrist. Dean watched in horror as one spear pierced Sam right through the heart, and Dean could see his dead eyes before he even hit the ground. The second spear morphed into an angel blade and sunk into Cas’ chest. White light exploded, forcing Dean to close his eyes. When he opened them, Cas was lying on the ground, shadows of his wings charred into the earth.

“No, no, please, no.” Dean sunk to his knees, his brother’s body on one side of him, Cas on the other. Agonizing loss and pain spread through Dean’s body as he shakily placed a hand on each body. Tears streamed down his face. Suddenly, Dean was jerked upright by Oberon, who wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him up against his chest. 

Dean struggled but couldn’t get free. “I told you they would die in front of your eyes.” Oberon smugly said, his breath hot in Dean’s ear. He started to pull Dean away from his brother and angel.

“No. Cas!  _ Sammy _ !” Dean screamed.

He jerked upright, looking around wildly. Panicking, the images still fresh in his mind, it took a few seconds for Dean to realize he was in a motel room, and not in the Old Ones’ grove. 

“Hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, Dean. Just breathe,” Dean heard through the fog in his head. Finally, his brain snapped back online, and Dean looked at Sam. His brother was perched on the side of the bed, leaning forward, trying to calm Dean down. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked. Still caught up in the horror of seeing Sam’s dead eyes looking up at him, he reached a hand out to grab onto Sam to reassure himself he was really alive, but a flash of the look on Sam’s face during the werewolf hunt and then in the back of the bar stopped Dean. Embarrassed, he quickly let his arm drop back down onto the bed. 

“Cas?” Dean swiftly asked, jerking his eyes around the room. He sighed in relief when he saw Cas before Sam could respond. Cas came over to stand at the foot of the bed. Dean shuddered again as the image of scorched wings appeared in his head, but they slowly faded. This time, Dean white knuckled the sheet in an effort to not reach out and grab onto anyone. 

He forced himself to relax his hand and cleared his throat before looking up. “Hey, fellas. Sorry about that. Nightmare,” Dean explained with a sheepish smile.

“It’s okay,” Cas and Sam said together. Dean jerked back slightly at that, his stomach twisting unpleasantly. But he instantly felt ashamed at being upset. They just put their lives on the line to save him, and now he was being jealous at how close they were?  _ Seriously, Dean, get a hold of yourself _ .

Taking a moment to look around, Dean put a hand where each of the spears had impaled him, and found himself already healed. He could still feel all the injuries from Oberon’s attack… but they were already feeling better. 

“I’m sorry, Dean,” Cas spoke up. Dean frowned in confusion. “I wasn’t able to heal all your wounds except for the lethal ones. I am still in need of recharging.” 

“Are you okay?” Dean asked nervously. “You didn’t hurt yourself trying to heal me, did you? ‘Cause…”

Cas stopped Dean with a narrowed eyed look. Dean had a feeling Cas knew he was about to say something self deprecating. “I’m fine, Dean.”

Dean stared at Cas for a beat before turning to Sam for confirmation. He ignored Cas’ huff of indignation at the clear indication that Dean didn’t believe him.

“He’s fine, Dean,” Sam affirmed. “One of the Old Ones helped power him up to save you. He just needs some rest.” 

“Okay. Um, I just… well… thank you,” Dean managed to get out. “You saved me from that place, from him…” Dean shivered, afraid of just thinking about Oberon and what his plans were. 

Sam and Cas smiled in response, but Dean’s mind flashed back to the dream. His heart began to beat faster as Dean thought about the fact that if he were even a millisecond slower, or jumped too high or too low, then his dream would have been a reality. Sam and Cas never should have been there, and they almost  _ died _ trying to save Dean’s pathetic life. 

Dean gripped the sheets with his hands, trying to stop the trembling of his body and get his breathing under control. “Don’t ever do something like that again. Promise me,” Dean demanded, despite the fact that he was swirling into a full blown panic attack.

Visibly taken aback at the command and Dean’s obviously distressed state, Sam frowned. He and Cas exchanged a look. “Dean?” Cas went to put his hand on Dean’s shoulder. Dean flinched away from the touch. 

They shouldn’t have done it. What the fuck were they thinking? Bargaining their lives like that – and for what? For Dean, someone not even remotely worthy of such a sacrifice?

“Why would you do that?” Dean whispered. At the blank look on both their faces, Dean sighed in frustration. “Try to save me and risk your lives in the process!” Dean exclaimed, his panic ratcheting up, his mind replaying their deaths over and over.

Sam’s eyes were filled with concern as he grasped Dean’s arm. “Dean, hey, come on, calm down. You need to breathe.”

“I don’t need to breathe!” Dean snarled out, pushing away Sam’s arm. “I need you to promise me to not do that again –  _ never. _ Do something like that again… I don’t–I don’t understand…” Dean’s voice petered out.

“Dean, I had to save you. I wasn’t going to just leave you there. And, you know, you actually ended up saving us, so just stop, okay?” 

Tears were streaming down Dean’s face as he shook his head. “You wouldn’t have been there if it wasn’t for me. It’s my fault you were almost killed. Oberon wasn’t going to let the Old Ones rule against him.” 

“Dean, it wasn’t your fault,” Cas said in a soft tone, trying to calm Dean down. “We had to save you. We lo–”

“No!” Dean shouted. Sam and Cas jumped. “It was my fault. Cas, we talked about this,” Dean turned to the angel, his face earnest, trying to make them understand. “It’s me. It’s always me. I’m wrong. I attract these monsters. Oberon proved it. It’s me. Tell me you understand,” Dean pleaded. “Please, just tell me you’ll never do something like that again.”

Sam frowned at Cas, confused and unsure what Dean was going for. He knew Dean would be upset that Sam risked his life, but this was more than Sam had anticipated. Dean was distraught and caught in a panic attack. He was mumbling to himself, and leaning closer, Sam could hear what he was saying. 

“You can’t,–you said you wouldn’t–my fault–I couldn’t live with myself–”

“Dean, stop,” Sam ordered. His loud, forceful tone made Dean pause his ramblings. Dean looked at Sam, wide eyes full of fear and tears. He looked impossibly young. God. Dean was so messed up, so broken, so convinced he wasn’t worth anything. 

“Dean, you have to stop,” Sam repeated, making his voice softer. “Of course I was going to save you. You’re my brother. You’d do the same, man, c’mon.”

Dean scoffed. “That’s different. It’s my job to protect you. And you’re – both of you – you’re worth so much more than me,” Dean said, voice so matter-of-fact. 

“Don’t say that, Dean,” Sam insisted, his heart breaking.

Dean just shrugged, a stubborn look on his face. Both brothers looked at each other. They knew neither of them was going to be able to convince the other at the moment.

Dean shook his head. Voice laden down with pain, he just said, “Sammy. You said you wouldn’t.” 

Sam jerked back.

He cursed himself for saying something like that, for wanting it, or thinking he could actually live without his brother for even a little while. With a small grin he wasn’t entirely feeling, yet hoping to lighten up the mood, Sam responded with a simple, “I lied.”

Silence descended among them, the air thick with tension. Dean didn’t know if he wanted to punch Sam or hug him. He didn’t know what to think about them saving him. Cas, yeah, the stupid angel stubbornly refused to see Dean for what he really was, but Sam? Well, Sam, even before he knew what Dean was, always knew Dean wasn’t worth it. That’s why he spent his life walking away from Dean… so why did he do it? 

It could only be because Sam still loved him… right? He risked his life for Dean, that had to mean something.

_ Don’t be anymore of an idiot. Sam could never love you. You’re nothing. _

_ “All you do is hold me back.” _ Sam’s voice was disgusted, and it was successfully tearing down the small bit of hope Dean had been starting to build. 

But Sam didn’t leave him this time, unlike purgatory. That had to mean something. But Dean was too chicken shit to actually ask Sam, afraid of being wrong, and even more afraid of being right, because, really, couldn’t they see he wasn’t worth it? 

_ Once again, you put your brother at risk because of your slutty ass. You’re a disgrace. I never should have left you to take care of Sam. _ Dean winced, his mind once again flashing on Sam’s dead eyes. Dean didn’t have it in himself to tell his father’s voice in his head he was wrong. 

Sam cleared his throat a bit, trying to dispel the persistent, uncomfortable tension in the air. Knowing it would probably not go over well Sam still had to ask, he wanted to know what happened over there so he could help his brother. 

“Uh.. Dean? What – uh. What happened to you over there with Oberon?”

Dean jerked his eyes up to Sam’s, and then quickly looked away again, his mind flooded with images of everything Oberon had done to him and how, like Alastair, he had made Dean’s body betray his mind, proving what a worthless slut Dean was. “ _ You belong to me. See how your body craves me _ ?” Dean shook his head, his fear and anxiety shooting through the roof at the thought of being under Oberon’s control again. 

Dean shook his head.“Why?” Dean asked gruffly, but his voice wavered in distress. “I’m out now, aren’t I?” He asked rhetorically. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” After a few more beats of silence Dean asked hesitantly. “Um, what about Oberon?”

Sam got a thunderous look on his face. Dean’s stomach dropped further, and he shot a questioning look at Cas instead. “He’s being punished,” Cas explained briefly to Dean.

“But?” Dean pressed. He knew Sam wouldn’t have that look on his face if there wasn’t bad news too.

“But apparently, he’s still king,” Sam sneered. 

Dean just nodded. Figured he’d still be alive and kicking. Dean felt exhausted. Not really wanting to talk anymore, Dean just scooted back down and turned toward the wall. “I’m going to sleep a bit more,” Dean murmured. Not looking up, he missed the worried look that passed between Sam and Cas.

“Okay, Dean,” Sam said. He flicked off the bedside light. “I’ll go grab some food.” 

____________

The next two days were bizarre. They had moved hotels either before they went to rescue Dean, or after they got back when Dean was still unconscious. It was a suite of rooms in a nice chain, one of the nicest places they had ever stayed at, in fact. It even had room service and everything. And Sam and Cas were treating Dean like he was made of glass, but at the same time, they were holding back, or pulling away, or just waiting for the chance to run – Dean wasn’t sure. They didn’t bring up the bombshell of Dean’s past, and Dean didn’t either. They didn’t ask again about what had happened with Oberon again. They got his favorite food, forced him to rest, and put on Dean’s favorite shows. For Christ’s sake, they actually watched Doctor Sexy with him, a show he knew they both hated. 

Frankly, it was weird, and Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it. They stayed in the hotel with no one mentioning going back to the bunker. Dean figured it was because they intended to part ways after they felt Dean was okay, but then, they were also catering to him, whether he wanted it or not. 

_ “What do you have to go back to?” _ Oberon’s voice whispered in his head.  _ “Just to be abandoned …again?” _ Dean winced, trying to push that awful voice out of his head, but then he would remember – he would remember what happened, and how Oberon proved to Dean what he really was, and he couldn’t blame Sam or Cas for wanting to be rid of him. Why they were prolonging it though, he had no fucking clue. Dean was completely healed now; he didn’t even need Cas to do much as the Mark had taken over the healing. Actually, weirdly the Mark had been surprisingly calm since he’d come back. 

But the distance remained, and the divide seemed to be growing by the hour. Cas didn’t sleep with him, even when Dean woke up from a nightmare, which was a definite change from before. Dean would be sitting on his bed, flicking through the channels, while Sam and Cas sat at the table in the room, murmuring softly to themselves. Dean hated that he felt envious when looking at them, but being the third wheel was a horrible sensation. He just didn’t understand why they were in this holding pattern, but he was too much of a coward to push the envelope, because even this weird holding pattern was better than being alone.

_ “You just can’t stand the thought of being alone.” _

Dean thought about what he was going to do, where he was going to go. There were no big bads out there at the moment — well. Maybe Gadreel, but he had played a big part in taking down Metatron, so Dean wasn’t so sure anymore if he wanted to hunt him down. He decided he would leave that to Sam and see what he chose to do. 

Dean figured it would be back to just regular monster hunting. It was going to suck, not having a home base any longer as Dean had really gotten used to it. First, the bunker, then the beach house, back to the bunker, and now it would be just him and baby again. 

At least he could depend on baby.

Fed up with all these thoughts constantly running around in his head and not wanting to attempt his hand at sleeping because he kept seeing Oberon in his nightmares, Dean knew he needed to get out of here for a little while. So, Dean went and took a shower and then started getting dressed. Sam and Cas got up and walked closer when they noticed what he was doing.

Sam cautiously inquired what he was doing. 

“I’m going stir crazy here, man. There’s a bar across the street. I’m going there for a beer.” Dean said, shrugging on his flannel. Dean grit his teeth when he saw Sam and Cas share a look, clearly having some kind of silent exchange that once again Dean was an outsider for. Apparently coming to an agreement on whatever the fuck they were silently discussing, Sam smiled.

“Sounds like fun,” he said. “We’ll come with you.” 

Dean narrowed his eyes. He wasn’t sure if they really wanted to join him or were somehow babysitting him. But, fuck it. He was going, and if they wanted to come along, that was their prerogative.

______________

Dean was leaning against the bar, sipping his beer and waiting for Cas’ mixed drink. Sam kept shooting him glances every few seconds, like Dean was just going to disappear on him. Because of that, it took Dean a few seconds to realize the prickly feeling of being stared at was not coming from Sam. Dean casually looked around until he saw a distinguished looking older man staring at him. Dean’s stomach fluttered nervously, because he knew what that look was. The guy was trolling. It still amazed Dean that even at this age he was still propositioned. He made eye contact with the guy, who tapped his wallet on the table with his finger and inclined his head toward the bathroom, before taking a moment to move his eyes to Dean’s lips making his desires clear. Dean gave a slight shake at his signal. Thankfully the guy just looked disappointed and moved on without trying to force the issue. It didn’t stop Dean from feeling dirty though, just another blatant reminder of what he was; a cock sucking whore. 

Still feeling the prickly feeling, Dean turned back to Sam and almost flinched from the look on Sam’s face. He had witnessed the whole exchange, and apparently figured out what it meant, and he was pissed. Almost choking at his next sip of beer as his throat abruptly closed up with dread, Dean sighed. “ _ Guess we’re talking about it whether I want to or not _ .” Dean didn’t even resist when Sam appeared in front of him and suddenly dragged Dean out of the bar by his arm. Sam never let go as they crossed the street to their room. Dean found himself flung inside and the door slammed.

“What the fuck was that?” Sam snarled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Vague memories and references to past non-con and abuse. Dean's low self worth.


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The TALK.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi here is the second part. No cliffhanger this time, I didn't want to do that to you all twice in a row.
> 
> I again want to say thank you enough for leaving kudos and/or comments. 
> 
> Triggers in this chapter, please end for notes.

Sam kept stealing glances at Dean when he was waiting at the bar. He was afraid that Dean would disappear on him, either by running off or by being taken again. Cas and he had agreed to let Dean rest and get his bearings again before they went back to the bunker, hoping the change of scenery would be a good thing. They also agreed to not push Dean to talk, even though Sam really wanted to have a conversation about the secrets he found out before Dean was kidnapped. But Dean wasn’t ready. He flinched whenever either one of them was near him, so they gave him his space. He would vacillate between panicking or looking like he expected them to beat him up, or worse, force him to talk when they approached him with questions in their eyes. So they stopped trying. But all the unspoken words were a heavy weight in the air between everyone, and Sam was scared. He was scared for Dean, so Sam was hyper-vigilant and started feeling antsy the longer Dean was away from them. 

Because of him paying such close attention, Sam saw the way the older guy was staring at Dean. He witnessed the guy’s signal to meet in the bathroom, and Dean’s slight shake of his head. Like ice water being poured over his head, Sam remembered the countless of times that same look was directed at his brother at various bars throughout their life. Sam wanted to be sick when he remembered the number of times Dean would disappear for a bit right after. 

_ Holy fuck _ . Dean was hustling right under Sam’s nose and he hadn’t even realized it. More realizations dawned upon Sam, who unfortunately remembered John being a part of the whole silent exchanges. Their dad had been the one to direct Dean to the bathroom or back of the bar when they were younger. Sam was furious. Furious at himself for being so blind, furious at his father for doing that to Dean, and furious at Dean for allowing himself to be used like that. 

Sam barely registered the resigned look in Dean’s eyes when he grabbed him and dragged him across the street to their motel, praying to Cas to stay away for a bit. Sam flung Dean into the room and slammed the door behind them. He turned to his brother, who was pale and a little shaky, with a look of impending doom stamped across his face. Sam glowered at him. “What the fuck was that?”

This was so not how Sam imagined approaching this conversation. He belatedly tried to calm himself down. He tugged at his hair and paced while Dean watched, not saying anything. Sam just raised a brow, waiting for Dean to answer the question, praying he wouldn’t try to lie.

Dean just sighed heavily. “You know what that was, Sam. Do I really need to spell it out?” 

The little tiny bit of hope Sam was holding onto that he had misread what happened and therefore misread all the other instances he remembered shriveled up and died. 

“How old?” Sam gritted out, stepping closer to Dean when he saw Dean’s eyes flick to the door. Dean’s eyes widened at Sam’s approach, and Sam froze when he recognized the look as fear. Did Dean really think he was going to hit him?  _ Why wouldn’t he? _ Sam thought to himself.  _ It wasn’t like you didn’t beat the crap out of him before. _ Sam forced himself to relax. He changed his direction and sat on the couch. 

Dean looked at Sam nervously, and then followed suit and sat on the other end of the couch. 

“How old?” Sam repeated, quieter.

“Sam. You don’t want…”

“How old?” Sam spat out, losing his tenuous hold on his patience as frustration reared within him. 

Dean seemed to deflate and curl into himself. “Why do you need…” Dean started to say, but then stopped at the look on Sam’s face. After a long sigh, Dean asked, “For dad or others?” 

Oh God. Sam was going to be sick. “Both.” 

Running his hand down his face, Dean looked at Sam. His breath caught at the pain and despair in Dean’s eyes. Sam wished he could just pretend he didn’t know, but he couldn’t, and he had to know. He wanted answers, damnit. 

“I was thirteen,” Dean said softly. “But it was just him at first, and then favors between hunters and weapons dealers, stuff like that. The, uh, the other stuff,” Dean looked down with shame written all over his face. “I was close to fifteen, and dad found out… so he…” 

“Found out what?” Sam asked, confused. 

Huffing a breath, Dean was silent for a moment. “He found out I did it for money, and then he just took over. Then when dad split, I only did it when there was no other way to get us what we needed.”

Sam’s jaw dropped as he gaped at his brother. “You were doing it before dad forced you? I don’t… what?”

Dean felt like he was going to throw up. His stomach was churning, his heart was beating a fast staccato, and Dean was starting to sweat. Why did Sam have to ask him these questions? And now he had to confess another secret to Sam.  _ Fuck _ . Dean swore to himself, before coming to the conclusion that… he would just tell Sam everything he wanted to know.

With another heavy sigh, Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes filling. “It was just once. And, you know… I was already doing it for dad and his friends, and we really needed money. There was no food, we were going to get kicked out of the motel, and dad was… not back yet, so I figured, ‘what the hell?’ ya know?”

Sam nodded, but the truth was, no, he didn’t know. He couldn’t imagine being in that situation, and how it must have felt to be that desperate, to feel like selling that part of yourself didn’t matter because your actual life was so fucked up.

“I think, sometimes – well – Alastair said–” Dean’s eyes widened even more at what he had just said. He snapped his jaw closed. 

“Dean?” Sam questioned, hoping that Dean wasn’t going to shut down and stop talking.

Dean just shook his head and looked away. 

He let that go. Sam was worried he was pushing too hard, but still continued. “I–uh. watched the videos.”

Dean visibly flinched, and his eyes teared up again. “I know. I wish you hadn’t,” Dean said in a small voice. 

“God, Dean, they were so bad. I can’t believe dad was like that, and let all that happen to you…”

Dean was quiet for a minute before he hesitantly met Sam’s eyes. “Sam, you gotta know. Dad loved you. He never would have hurt you. I know that now, so don’t let this change–”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Sam yelled, jumping up again in his agitation. “You think I’m just gonna think about how dad was with me and forget, and – worse – forgive him for what he did to you?” Sam exclaimed, indignant at the thought.

Dean hastily wiped a tear away. “I’m just saying he was different with you, and that is what you should remember.”

“Unbelievable.” Sam shook his head, staring at Dean disbelievingly. “If you were so sure he wouldn’t hurt me, then why did you go along with it? You seemed to believe him in that video.” 

“I did at the time, but now, looking back – plus Alastair and Crowley – You know.”

“What?”

“Alastair told me he looked into dad’s brain, or memories or whatever. And he would never have hurt you. And Crowley confirmed that he wasn’t lying. I mean, I knew deep down, and sometimes, I even think… well.”

“What?” Sam asked, softly now, to encourage him to continue.

Dean squirmed, clearly uncomfortable. Thankfully, he kept talking though. “I think back to that first time. Dad left only a twenty and he was gone for weeks. And then I did what I did with the motel manager, and he was back and caught me,’” Dean said with a snarl, the air quotes quick and jerky with anger. “I think, uh. I think he set me up… ‘Cause right after, well, I pretty much funded everything.” 

“Oh god,” Sam muttered. He collapsed back down onto the couch. Dean was probably right. Just like Sam was one hundred percent sure John set them up with the shtriga. 

They sat there in silence, Sam horrified, Dean trying to push the memories and feelings back down.

Finally, Dean murmured an apology, breaking the silence. Sam’s head jerked up in surprise. “Sorry for what?” He asked confused.

“I’m sorry, you know, for everything. You finding out, having me for a brother. You must be so disgust–”

“Proud?” Sam cut in. 

“What?” Dean uttered. And Sam flashed back to that time, oh so long ago now, outside the cemetery, when he found out about Dean’s deal. It was the same “ _ what? _ ” So full of shock and disbelief when Sam had said, “ _ and what do you think my job is? _ ”

Sam smiled softly. “I must be so proud? To have a brother who would go to such lengths to provide for me, to protect me.” 

“But…” Dean started to say, when he realized he had nothing to add. He was flabbergasted. “Sam, I don’t–How can you…” Dean’s voice was pained, his body trembling.

Sam scooted over and sat next to Dean, putting his arm around Dean’s shoulder and pulling him close. Dean flinched, struggling before he finally relaxed. Sam could feel wetness soaking through his shirt from Dean’s tears.

“Dean, hey, it’s okay. I don’t hate you. I’m not ashamed of you,” he whispered into Dean’s hair. “I’m awed at how strong you are.”

Dean snorted. “Strong,” he sneered. “I’m weak, Sam. Always have been. I just let them all–and I’m just wrong. It’s me. I’m like this beacon of wrong for–” Dean waved his hand around. “So…” 

Sam felt his heart breaking even more. God, he wanted to resurrect his father so he could kill him all over again. How could he have done those things to his own son, treated Dean that way, when Dean was so good and selfless? Take advantage of the unprecedented love Dean had for his brother?

“No, you’re not,” Sam corrected. “Did you ask for it? To be put in a situation where that was your only choice, or in a situation where you were forced to by the person who was supposed to keep you safe? Did you want all these monsters to fixate on you? Did you, Dean?” Sam questioned. 

“No, but…” Dean whispered.

“But?” Sam urged.

“I didn’t leave. I didn’t tell. I only tried to run after… and, there’s been so many, Sam. Just so many.”

Sam knew instantly the “after” was when he left Dean for Stanford. God, he’s made so many fucking mistakes. He wanted to shake some sense into Dean, have him get angry, not be this resigned person who felt he deserved all the monsters – their father included – doing those things to him. 

“Dean, please. If you don’t believe anything I say ever again – and God knows I deserve that – but believe this. I don’t blame you for what dad did, or the other hunters, Alastair, Kate, Abaddon, or Oberon.”  _ Fucking hell, the list of Dean’s abusers was so fucking long, _ Sam thought to himself in despair. “I really don’t, so please, don’t blame yourself.” 

Dean just nodded, not looking convinced, but Sam let it drop for now. Dean had calmed down and there was silence again, but it was more comfortable without all the tension. They still had a lot of talking to do. There were things Sam still wanted – no,  _ needed _ to know, but he thought he finally got through to Dean at least a little that he wasn’t going to walk away again, and that Sam didn’t blame him. 

Sam grabbed two glasses and the bottle of whiskey off the table, and poured them each a drink. In a much calmer manner, Sam waved at the drink, and after a few beats, Dean hesitantly took one of the glasses and downed the whiskey. Sam followed suit, and coughed a bit at the sting. Dean chuckled, taking another shot. “Such a lightweight!” He muttered into his glass.

Sam grinned, not at all offended. “Jerk.”

“Bitch,” Dean replied automatically. Sam’s heart sang. He actually felt hope that they might be able to mend their relationship, and that Sam would be able to make up for the many,  _ many _ mistakes he had made in regards to his brother. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Talking about childhood abuse, physical and sexual, forced prostitution (underage) and prostitution.


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannah confronts Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone, we have I believe 5 chapters left, 4 plus the epilogue. The next two chapters are really just one very long chapter that I split in two. It just ran away from me, but I'm happy with it. Hopefully you will all like it too.
> 
> Please leave kudos and comments if you are enjoying the story. I can't tell you how happy they make me. 
> 
> No major triggers.

Dean landed in a crouch, breathing labored, muscles screaming, and sweat sliding down the back of his neck. A rare wide smile flashed across his face. “That was fucking awesome!” Dean breathed out, looking down at the Mark, impressed. 

Dean was in the gym at the bunker, trying to see what he was capable of now. After another night peppered with nightmares and very little sleep, Dean had laid there, and his mind wandered over the last few months. He thought about Crowley, simultaneously cursing himself for still missing the bastard sometimes, which led him to think about being let out of his deal, and Cain, and the gorgon, and Cerberus. Dean remembered the crazy move he did on instinct, running up a wall and flipping through the air to land on the creature’s back, and he’d started to think. What else could he do now? 

All of Dean’s powers or abilities he noticed with the Mark, aside from the bloodlust, had always been reactionary. The Mark getting him out of being frozen, or stuck, or poisoned, but Dean never actually tried to figure out what he could do outside of a dangerous situation. 

When he went on those crazy hunts after Sam had kicked him out, he hadn’t been testing the Mark’s ability like he told Crowley. He wanted to be punished, and if he ended up dying, it hadn’t mattered to him. He had no one who would miss him or even care. But now that Dean thought about it, he found himself a little excited to test the waters. He briefly considered calling Cain, but he knew Sam – and most especially Cas – would not like that, and he didn’t want to rock this already half sunken boat, so he’d shelved that idea. 

He already knew he could sense evil, or maybe it was just the presence of power like he did when finding the gorgon? But what else would the Mark allow him to do? Mindful that he still needed to up the sigils on the band, Dean found himself in the gym. After watching some parkour, and even some Ninja warrior videos, he gave it a go. 

_ Son of a bitch, that was so cool _ , Dean thought now. He had mimicked every move he had watched, and then some. He let his body take the lead, and it worked. It fucking worked. Now, Dean just needed to practice and see if he could find a way to incorporate his body’s new abilities into his fighting. Then he could be going into hunts already knowing what he could do instead of passively depending on the Mark to produce random bouts of powers to keep him alive.

Dean grabbed the water bottle, threw back his head and downed the entire thing in one go. Some water escaped and rolled down the sides of his face, neck, and chest, cooling his overheated body. Dean felt the Mark pulse just before he felt the weight of a stare. 

Looking up, Dean locked eyes with Cas, who was standing there, staring at Dean. His blue eyes were laser points of focus, darkened with lust as Cas stared at Dean with a hungry look on his face. 

Startled, Dean stepped back and felt a spike of panic at the dark look, but just as quickly dismissed it. This was Cas, and this was the way Dean used to dream of Cas looking at him before everything became so fucked up. 

Unfortunately, Cas must have detected the brief moment of panic, because Cas’ eyes widened. His face was cleared of the lust, looking instantly apologetic instead. 

“Cas it’s alr–” Dean started to say, but with a brief flash of black wings, Cas disappeared. 

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, frustrated. He was so glad that Cas had his wings back, but with a sinking heart, Dean realized it just made it easier for him to leave. ‘Cause that’s what Cas usually does, wasn’t it? Leave? 

Dean sat down in despair. Ever since coming back to the bunker, things had been weird with Sam and Cas still keeping their distance and confusing the fuck out of Dean with their mixed signals. And now – now, Dean was slapped in the face with just how easy it will be for Cas to leave. 

Reaching for another bottle of water, but then changing his mind and grabbing his flask, Dean took a long swallow. The weird thing was that Cas had been around consistently for a while now, probably the longest stretch of time ever. He’d been with Sam since Abaddon kidnapped Dean, and from what Dean understood from conversations about what happened when he was missing, Cas would leave for a day or two, but was always right back here, helping Sam.

And– _ Oh. _ Realization came with a large click in his mind while he simultaneously felt his world slip to the side. Cas had been here for so long… because of Sam. He’d been here with Sam. 

But he was helping Sam look for Dean, or keep Dean locked up, or look for Dean again. So it was actually for Dean, right? 

_ “The truth is, they don’t need you, not like you need them!” _ It was John’s voice, but Azazel’s words that sneered in Dean’s head.

“Shut up!” Dean yelled at the empty room – but then froze when he heard a snicker from behind him. 

“Is that what they mean when humans refer to people "losing it?’” Hannah asked with a smirk.

Dean quickly stood up and turned, warily watching as the angel walked further into the gym. “Cas isn’t here,” Dean said, his eyes never leaving the angel.

“I’m not looking for Castiel.”

_ Just fucking great. _ Dean knew it was only a matter of time before she would call him out on breaking their agreement, but Dean really, really didn’t want to deal with this shit right now. 

“You got something to say, Hannah, just get it over with. I’m busy,” Dean said, grabbing a towel and wiping his face. 

“Busy having a mental breakdown?” Hannah laughed.

Dean felt embarrassed for a moment, but anger swiftly rose up and the Mark started to thrum. Dean  _ really _ didn’t want to deal with this shit. “What the fuck is your problem, lady?” Dean said brusquely. 

“What is my problem?” Hannah practically screeched. “ _ You _ are my problem, Winchester. You are everybody’s problem.” Dean inwardly flinched as her words struck home. “It wasn’t enough that you derailed our father’s plans for this world, but you had to drag Castiel down too? It’s because of you that Castiel was killed and cut off from heaven. It was because of  _ you _ that he was so desperate to not disappoint you and bring you back into the ‘hunting life,’” she mocked, “while you went off and lived your ordinary life. But you left Castiel by himself to deal with the fallout of everything you did to him, so it was because of  _ you _ that he made that deal with Crowley and took in all those souls, and it is because of you,” Hannah was pretty much screaming now, her face red with fury. “That he killed thousands of our brothers and sisters!

“And then he went insane, but that still didn’t stop you from pulling him back into your schemes, did it? And you got him stuck in purgatory, surrounded by monsters and fighting for his life every minute of every day.”

“Hannah,” Dean said calmly, trying to defuse the angel, while at the same time not letting her know that each fact she threw at him was like a dagger to his heart. Because what could Dean say to all of that? “We tried to stop Cas from opening purgatory. And hey, I was trapped in purgatory too,” Dean explained. But Hannah stepped closer, the expression on her face telling Dean that she wasn’t going to listen to a word of reason he tried to say. 

“I know you were, Dean, we all do. We know how, even there, you couldn’t leave Castiel alone. He ran, and he ran from you, for almost a year, and you never got the message. You just kept hunting for him,” Hannah switched tactics, her voice now low with rage.

Dean visibly flinched this time. Hannah’s eyes shone with satisfaction at the reaction.

Was it true? Was Cas really running  _ from  _ him? Dean mentally began to scoff, but then he thought about purgatory, and the never ending hunt for his angel. Sometimes, they would be running in circles looking for him, but he was always just out of reach. Dean was in agony when he knew Cas was purposefully staying away from him, not coming when he prayed or was hurt, but Dean figured Cas had a good reason. When they finally caught up with him, Cas said was protecting Dean. And Dean believed him.

Pain sliced through Dean, his heart raced, and his mind was blown. Had Cas lied? Was he trying to get away from Dean all that time, and like a psycho stalker Dean just kept going after him? Fuck! Benny kept trying to get him to listen, but all Dean could think about was getting to Cas, seeing Cas, saving Cas. After everything he had done to and had caused to happen to his angel, Dean was determined to never give up on finding and rescuing Cas. Giving up was never an option. He had spent almost a year longer than necessary in that wasteland because he lov… because he wasn’t going to leave family behind. And like some delusional super fan, was Dean blind to the fact that Cas had been trying to get away from Dean all that time?

Not willing to give Hannah any further satisfaction that she was getting to him, Dean wiped his face of any expressions. “You’re wrong, Hannah. Cas is family.”

Hannah snarled at him. “ _ We’re _ his family, Winchester. You’re just a needy, bottom of the barrel human, who only calls Cas when he needs something. All you do is continuously drive a wedge between heaven and Castiel, forcing him to choose. How do you think that makes him feel? Oh – wait.” She tilted her head at him, face dripping with condescension. “You don’t care as long as you get what you need from him.” She stepped even closer.

Dean’s arm began to shake from the pulses of power the Mark was sending at her proximity and threat. Oblivious to the energy thrumming with him. Hannah’s eyes swept up and down Dean’s body, scorn stamped across her face. “You think you’re some big bad hunter, but really, you’re just the damsel in distress who keeps looking to Castiel to rescue him, never mind what it does to Castiel, and never mind that Castiel’s misplaced loyalty keeps him coming back instead of staying with his family, his  _ real family _ .” 

Dean was freaking out in his head, because it made sense. Cas always came when Dean called, and Dean had loved that about him. Except, when Dean didn’t call, or when Cas thought Dean wasn’t calling, he never came. He just went on with his business, not ever bothering to reach out to Dean. 

_ “What does that say about our relationship, Cas?” _ Dean remembered asking the angel, when Cas had told Dean what the angels had done to block his calls and prayers. 

“Everything bad that has happened to Castiel can be laid at your feet. And despite my knowing how much you have hurt him, I still thought you would honor your word. But no, once again, Dean Winchester needs to be rescued!” Hannah yelled.

“Hey, now,” Dean said. He was mentally reeling, yet that didn’t mean he was willing to let Hannah know how much she was hurting him. “That was all Metatron,” Dean said. “And where would you and all the other angels be right now if not for me?” Dean stated, plastering a smirk on his face.

“Considering that the fall can directly be led back to you, I imagine Metatron would still be hidden away, and we would all be alive and happy.” 

Dean opened his mouth to retort, but he had nothing, because the fucking bitch was right.

“You are the very worst of father’s creation, the worst kind of human, and yet, you still persist in keeping Castiel under your heel,” Hannah said, her eyes wild.

At a loss of how to respond, his mind a jumbled mass of pain, Dean tried to cover it all up with his usual snark while doing everything to hold it all togher. “Geez, lady,” Dean snarked. “Tell me how you really feel!”

Dean stumbled and almost fell to the floor with the force of the slap Hannah planted across his cheek.

“Don’t make a joke out of this,” Hannah gritted out, her eyes beginning to glow with her rage.

Dean gasped as the Mark practically crackled with energy in response to the violence of the angel.

Hannah raised her hand to strike Dean again, but this time he caught her wrist. He watched with satisfaction as her eyes widened, clearly realizing just how strong Dean was now. Her eyes flicked from the Mark, pulsing and screaming red on Dean’s arm, to Dean’s face, and back again. He had to hand it to her, as she quickly composed herself and tried to yank her wrist out of Dean’s grasp.

“I let that one shot go, Hannah,” Dean said, her struggling useless against his strong grip. “Because I admit I deserved it for breaking our agreement. But do not, for one second, even  _ think _ about trying that again or I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” Hannah laughed. “You’ll kill me? What’s another angel notch on your belt to you, right?” Hannah’s eyes were burning brighter, and despite the need to close his eyes, Dean held his ground. 

He flung her arm down and backed up a step. “Just calm down,” Dean gave her a grin that didn’t reach his furious eyes. “Cas cares about you. I don’t want to hurt you,” Dean said lowly. But the truth was, he was fighting to keep control. The Mark was burning so strong, Dean almost hissed aloud in pain.

They both stood there staring at each other, and the blue fire coming out of Hannah’s eyes slowly dimmed. 

“Yes, I care about Castiel. And I know what’s best for him. And that is being in heaven, with his family, and most importantly, away from you.” Hannah sneered.

Dean just raised a brow. He wasn’t sure how to respond because she wasn’t entirely wrong, so he kept silent. 

Somehow taking that as encouragement to continue her rant, Hannah continued. “You corrupted Castiel, and you continue to tempt him with your devil made looks,” Dean’s eyebrows climbed higher at that, “you make him think you are good and righteous, when you are as far from that as possible. For once, put Castiel’s well being before your own selfish needs, and hold up your end of the bargain. Stay away from him before you damage him beyond repair – or worse, get him killed,” Hannah said. Her voice started out strong and true, but it petered out toward the end to almost sound pleading, still mixed with traces fury of course, as she added, “Again.”

Dean’s deflated. He pushed his rage and blood lust down. It was clear how much Hannah cared about Cas. In fact, Dean was pretty sure she loved him as much as an angel who was not Cas could feel. But what was Dean supposed to do? Cas was here with Sam, and Dean wanted–no,  _ needed _ to be with Sam, so he couldn’t just walk away. Not to mention, the thought of never seeing Cas again made hurt and loss thrum through his veins, and he couldn’t bear it. After everything that he had been through, he just couldn’t bear it.

_ “You’re certainly willing to do the sacrificing as long as you’re not the one being hurt.” _

Fuck! Dean didn’t want to sacrifice this, sacrifice his relationship with Cas, whether or not it went anywhere. 

“Hannah,” Dean began, full of sorrow. “I can’t… I can’t walk away from Cas, and especially not from my brother. Cas is here with Sam, so this is where I am too,” He finished, his eyes locked on Hannah’s. He wished she would just accept it. 

“That seems like a pretty easy fix,” Hannah said though, all smug and with an evil glint in her eyes. Dean’s stomach dropped, fear spreading through him. Straightening up, he gave her the full on death glare.

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying,” Hannah said, stepping closer to Dean. “All we have to do is get rid of your brother and problem solv–”

She didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before Dean slammed her against the wall and laid his Blade across her throat. “If you or any of your angel dicks touch a single hair on Sam’s head, I will end you.” Dean threatened, his voice full of deadly promise. “I will tear the grace from your body and rip it to shreds, and then I will go to heaven and do the same to the rest of the angels.”

Hannah looked shocked at the turn of events. She was finally starting to show fear at Dean’s threat and the power practically vibrating off of him and the Blade.

“Dean! What are you doing?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dean's low self esteem. 
> 
> NOTE: Spoiler for first part of the series. 
> 
> Dean asks Hannah for help when Sam and Cas are kidnapped by Kate. She says yes only if Dean agrees to stays away from Cas.
> 
> When Sam kicked Dean out of the bunker he started hunting large groups of monsters and going in alone letting the Mark save him.
> 
> Cas and Sam locked Dean in the bunker afraid he would turn into a demon and hurt people.
> 
> Dean's calls and prayers were blocked in an effort to separate him and Cas. During that time Cas only kept in touch with Sam.


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas talk and both learn some truths. Dean fears may get in his way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the second half of this monster chapter.  
> Next posting will be the last.
> 
> Thank you.

“Dean! What are you doing?” Cas shocked voiced filtered through the bloodlust from the Mark and Dean’s rage and fear for his brother.

Swallowing, Dean stepped back and averted his eyes. He didn’t want to see the distrust and disappointment in Cas’ eyes, just like when he caught Dean fighting with Ishim in the corridor.  _ Fuck my life. _ Of course something would happen to fuck up his relationship with Cas again, and of fucking course it would involve another angel too.

With a smug smirk and satisfaction quickly replacing the fear in her eyes, Hannah turned to Cas. “Castiel! He attacked me. He–”

“What did you do?” Castiel’s voice sliced through the room, vibrating with authority and cutting off Hannah’s explanation.

Flinching at the command and preparing himself for the worst, Dean jerked back in surprise when he realized Cas’ eyes were burning holes into Hannah and not Dean. Cas… was asking Hannah what she had done? What the fuck? 

“I–I…” Hannah sputtered, her wide eyes swinging from Dean to Castiel and back again in shock, all traces of smugness gone.

“Hannah, what did you do?” Castiel repeated firmly.

Dean had to hand it to her. She was one tough bitch as, after just another moment of faltering, Hannah quickly gained control and stood up straight. “Castiel. He attacked me. Punish him.” Hannah demanded, flinging her arm out toward Dean. 

He rolled his eyes, but his breath hitched as he waited to see what Cas would do to him. 

Cas clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes. “I could see that Hannah. I asked you what you did to cause Dean to attack you.” 

Despite her returned composure, Hannah couldn’t answer swiftly with anything that wouldn’t make her look bad. Unbelievably, she turned her eyes to Dean, as if he would help her out.

Huffing out a sigh, Dean relented. Even though the bitch didn’t really deserve it… Cas deserved to know the truth. “I’m sorry, Cas. She threatened Sam, and I kinda lost it,” Dean admitted. 

“You  _ what _ ?” Cas roared, stepping closer to Hannah.

Hannah stepped back, eyes wide, putting a hand out as if to stop Cas’ advance. “He misunderstood, Castiel,” she desperately tried to explain. “You know the angels have no problems with Sam and wish him no harm,” Hannah cast a sharp glance at Dean. The air was thick with the unspoken words, something Dean knew to be along the lines of, _ “not like with Dean.”  _

Dean deflated. Hannah’s words of scorn blared in his head. She was right. Here he was again, causing strife and problems between Cas and his family. The angels were never going to accept Dean, never even tolerate him. Cas was always going to be put in the position of choosing sides. It sucked, but all Dean knew was that right now, he was hurting his angel for the umpteenth time.

Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder, pulling him back a bit. “Come on, Cas. I’m sure she didn’t mean it. She wouldn’t dare think of doing something so stupid as hurting Sam,” Dean said in a soft tone, but his eyes met Hannah’s over Cas’s shoulder. She swallowed, nodding slightly at the look in his eyes, and he relaxed. Cas was still tense beneath Dean’s hand. He patted Cas’s back. “Relax, Cas. It was just a misunderstanding.” 

Eventually, Dean felt the angel loosen his muscles, but his eyes were still narrowed as he looked at Hannah.

“Leave!” Cas gritted out.

Dean felt like he’d been punched in the gut, his heart dropping as the air was figuratively punched out of his lungs. “Okay, sure, Cas,” Dean said softly, but then gasped as Cas turned around sharply and grabbed onto Dean’s wrist. 

“Not you, Dean. Hannah.”

“But, Castiel!” Hannah pleaded, shocked. She took a step forward. “I need to–”

“I don’t care,” Cas ground out, still furious. “Leave,” he commanded again.

With a quick glance around the room, Hannah realized there wasn’t going to be anything changing Castiel’s mind. Reluctantly, she left. 

Realizing how hard he was grasping Dean’s wrist, Cas abruptly let go. “Why was she threatening Sam? What happened, Dean?”

Dean gaped at Cas. He was still shocked that Cas took Dean’s side without question, while the petty, jealous bitch inside himself screamed that Cas was just worried about Sam. 

“What is it, Dean?” Cas asked, his voice softening, tilting his head in confusion at the expression on Dean’s face.

Dean shook his head, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Nothing, Cas. I’m just surprised. You didn’t know the whole story, and you…” Dean trailed off, and waved his hand around instead, trying to gesture the words he couldn’t say. “You know, you just…”

“Didn’t automatically blame you?” Cas finished for Dean. His face went sad at the reminder of the last two times something like this had happened, and how much damage it had caused to his and Dean’s relationship.

Cas gave Dean a small smile. “This canine has the ability to learn new instructions, you know,” Cas joked.

Dean frowned in confusion. Eyes absently looking upwards, he repeated the words to himself, before his face smoothed out as he snorted in amusement. “You mean ‘an old dog can learn new tricks?’” Dean asked, unable to hide his smile God, his angel was adorable.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” Cas responded with a small frown. Dean chuckled again. 

“Dean… what really happened with Hannah?” Cas asked, growing somber. Before Dean could even think of a response, Cas put a hand up and narrowed his eyes. “And don’t cover for her.” 

Dean gawked for a minute, because that was exactly what he’d been about to do. But then he sighed. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Dean muttered, “She was mad that I broke an agreement.” 

“What agreement, Dean?”

Shaking his head, Dean didn’t say anything for a few moments, but it was clear that Cas wasn’t going to let him get out of it that easily. “Look, Cas. I kinda agreed to something, and then I didn’t follow through, okay? I broke my promise, so this is all on me. Don’t be mad at Hannah,” Dean said. He was being sincere, but the words still tasted like ash in his mouth. Part of Dean wanted to be selfish and vindictive and throw Hannah under the bus and make Cas hate her, but he couldn’t do it. Hannah was clearly in love with Cas, and he couldn’t take that away from him. Cas deserved it.

“What did you agree to?” Cas asked, growing frustrated at the vague answers. 

“Ok, fine,” Dean muttered to himself in defeat. Cas was worse than Sam sometimes when it came to not letting things go, and he could tell this was one of those times. “When I asked Hannah for help with the vampires, she agreed to help as long as I agreed to stay away from you,” Dean said reluctantly. He cringed at the look of shock and, oh fuck, was that betrayal on Cas’ face?

Dean put his hands up. “Look, I’m sorry. I was desperate. I really thought you or Sam were going to be hurt and would need to be healed, and everything was happening so fast and I already had made the deal with Crowley and knew he wouldn’t let me near you anyway so it just seemed like the thing to do and–”

“Dean!” Cas forcefully cut off Dean’s rambling. “I understand why you would agree but… I don’t understand why Hannah would even ask that of you.” 

“Because she cares about you, man. You know that, right?”

“I care about her too,” Cas said. “I care about all my brothers and sisters,” Cas tilted his head.

Dean rolled his eyes. “No, I mean Hannah really, really likes you.” 

“And I really like her,” Cas replied. Dean’s stomach sank at the words. “I hold all my officers in high regard because we work together so much.”

Clenching his fists in frustration, Dean wanted to shake the angel, but he just took a deep breath to calm down. “Cas, Hannah is in love with you.” 

“And I love–”

“No, Cas! Not like other angels! I’m talking about romantic love you, want to marry you, or get in your pants – whatever you angels do, kind of love.”

“Oh…” was all Cas said. And then he looked contemplative. 

_ What the fuck is he thinking?! _ Dean thought in frustration but then continued. “Cas… she was just trying to do what’s best for you – that’s what you do for the people you care about. So, you should give her a chance – I mean, she’ll do anything for y–”

“You think I should love Hannah back?” Cas asked. And for some reason, he sounded hurt.

“Well, I think she would make you happy. And you deserve someone like her, and not…”

“Not what, Dean?” Cas took a step closer to Dean. 

Swallowing, and it was a miracle he didn’t swallow his tongue in the process, Dean opened his mouth, but he’d forgotten what he was going to say. “Not… what?” He managed, eloquently.

“And you doing whatever it took to make sure me and Sam were going to be okay – wasn’t that ‘doing what was best for me?’” Cas said making air quotes. He took another step closer.

“Um–well, yeah–but it’s not the same,” Dean said, now completely flustered. He could feel the warmth of Cas’ body and see his wings flaring behind him, looking silky black and majestic. 

“Why not?” Cas asked. Dean felt Cas’ breath puff against his lips. 

“Because it’s not the same thing. She’s good and pure and I’m… you know… Dirty and tai–”

“Don’t!” Cas shook his head. “Dean, stop. You know I don’t think that of you. Don’t belittle yourself and think you are not as good as Hannah or anyone else.”

Dean stared at Cas, mouth open in shock. “You’re kidding right?”

“No, Dean, I am not kidding,” Cas said, and put a hand on the back of Dean’s neck and pulled him in for a kiss.

Cas moaned when their lips connected. Dean gasped with pleasure, and he felt Cas take advantage of his open mouth, tongue sliding in. Desire, love, and want flared up in Dean, and just as he relaxed into the kiss, he heard the dreaded voice.  _ Why did he kiss you now? _

_ No! _ Dean tried to ignore Oberon’s voice, but doubt flooded Dean.  _ “You make him think you are good and righteous when you are as far from that as possible.” _ Hannah voice screamed.

_ “You’re just a whore Dean, a slut. No one could ever love you.” _

Tears filled Dean’s eyes. With great force and reluctance, he stepped back, pulling away from Cas, and breaking the kiss. Cas looked confused when he saw a single tear slide down Dean’s face. 

“Dean?” Cas whispered with concern. “What is it? Did I hurt you?” 

“No,” Dean whimpered, flushed with embarrassment. God, he was so fucking weak.

“What is it?” Cas pressed, voice still soft.

“It’s just… You know what? Just forget it,” Dean turned to leave, but Cas grabbed his arm. Knowingly or not, he placed his hand over Dean’s biceps, right on top of where Cas’ mark lay beneath his skin. A tingle of warmth shot down Dean’s arm, and the Mark spiked in reaction. 

Pulling away from the touch and ignoring how badly his chest felt when he saw the disappointed and sad look on Cas’ face, Dean muttered, “Why now?”

Cas looked even more confused. “I don’t understand.”

Dean wrapped his arms around himself, hands squeezed into fists to stop them from shaking. 

_ “Look at you. So weak and pathetic, mooning and practically begging another man, a monster. You’re not my son, worthless whore.” _ Dean flinched.

“Why now, Cas?” Dean asked in a small voice. “After all these years, why did you kiss me now? Is it because of the videos and what–”

“No!” Cas exclaimed. He continued more calmly. “No, Dean, that had nothing to do with it. Why would you think that?” Cas’ face looked puzzled but genuine. And Dean wanted to believe him, but…

“It’s just something Oberon said,” Dean answered. His eyes widened at the fury that flashed across Cas’ face. Dean took a step back before he could stop himself.

Cas noticed, and his face melted. “I’m sorry,” Cas said. “It just makes me so angry. I wish I could…” Cas stopped, and was silent for a minute. Dean waited for him to gather his thoughts. “Dean, I’ve always wanted you. But it wasn’t until…” Cas stopped and blushed, looking uncomfortable. 

Intrigued, Dean stepped closer. “What, Cas?”

“It was Crowley,” Cas admitted, his eyes flitting up to Dean’s to take in his reaction. 

Dean just stared, dumbfounded, not understanding at all. “What?” Dean uttered, his mind racing. 

“It was Crowley. The thought of him saving you, and keeping you all to himself, and him–him, touching you!” Cas spat out, his eyes flashing, but then he took a deep breath. “It just made me realize some things,” Cas explained.

Dean was shocked. Betrayal and pain shot through him. 

“So, what? I’m just some prize between the two of you, and he was winning so…” Dean asked. He’d intended for it to come out angry, and winced when he sounded needy and hurt instead. 

“No, Dean,” Cas exclaimed, stepping closer again, but Dean’s mind was reeling. That was the last thing he had expected to hear from Cas. Dean didn’t know if that was better than Cas thinking of Dean as a sexual object now, with everything that came to light and everything that had happened to him lately. Was this just some fucking pissing contest, though? Dean knew the angel and demon have had this weird, competition, one-upmanship thing going on. But, what, Dean was the prize? Dean wasn’t sure what was worse – being a sex object or a trophy?

“Dean, no,” Cas repeated vehemently. His eyes were wide with something Dean couldn’t interpret. “It wasn’t like that. It was just… It’s not anything bad,” Cas looked uncomfortable again, his eyes not meeting Dean’s. 

“It was just what, Cas?” Dean demanded. “‘Cause I gotta tell you, this doesn’t feel like something good here.”

Cas sighed. “I’m not proud of this. But seeing you with Crowley, it wasn’t about winning. It was–I guess, I just–I got green,” Cas admitted. He had his head ducked down, but Dean could see the shy smile. 

“You got green? What the hell…  _ Oh _ .” Dean blinked. “You were jealous,” Dean stated, surprised and pleased, despite himself.

“Yes. And then all that stuff happened to you that I wasn’t able to help you with, or I made things worse, and then you were with Crowley. I know it was a deal, but you didn’t really seem to mind at first, and Sam told me about how close the two of you had gotten before your deal, and I just…”

God, Dean needed a drink. Or ten. But he saw how apprehensive Cas looked, and his own face softened. “It’s okay. I get it, Cas,” Dean said. 

Cas sighed, relieved. His wings flared softly behind him, which made Dean think of earlier, when Cas just vanished. 

Dean’s stomach sunk yet again, and he felt sick. Yeah, it was great that Cas got jealous and wanted Dean now, and maybe Dean was just brushing aside the possibility that he was just some prize in the weird, frenemy thing the angel and demon had going on with each other, or maybe Cas really did just feel like he missed his shot. But did it really change anything? Cas always left. This is the longest he’d ever stuck around, and it was because of Sam. Not Dean. 

_ “Everyone leaves you Dean.”  _

_ “What do you have to go home to, Dean? Just to be abandoned… again?” _

_ “It's not like you have anywhere else to go, or anyone else who wants you.” _

After everything that happened, and with Dean’s still somewhat tenuous hold on the Mark, Dean didn’t know if he could trust Cas again. And he sure as shit knew that he couldn’t be what the angel really needed and deserved.

“Cas, I don’t…” Dean started to say, but his voice trailed off. He looked at Cas. Cas just smiled softly.

“I know you don’t believe me, Dean, but I won’t leave you again. Even if nothing else happens and we stay just friends, I won’t leave you.”

Dean felt more tears gather in his eyes as hope blossomed. The Mark pulsed and whispered, however, and so, so many voices screamed at him in his head, intent on reminding him that he was nothing, and an angel would never want to stay with him now ‘cause he never did, and there was the whole issues of the angels hating Dean, and Dean wished he didn’t believe this, but if push came to shove and they pulled another stunt, would Cas do the same thing again? Would he side with them, or would he turn his back on his family for Dean yet again? Neither prospect was good in Dean’s opinion. Or was Dean just deflecting from what the real issue was? 

“Dean?”

Dean couldn’t look at Cas right then and kept his gaze on the ground. He knew if he looked, he would get lost in that ocean of blue, and he needed to figure stuff out first. It hurt, unbearably so, that the two people in his life that he needed to trust the most had let him down so badly that as much as a glutton of punishment he was, he wasn’t sure what to do here. He could dance around the why’s, when’s, and what’s, and use them as crutches or excuses, but the bottom line was simple. 

“Dean, I know I hurt you very badly, me and Sam both,” Dean’s eyes squeezed shut at the inclusion of Sam in the equation. “Dean,” Cas said softly. He was once again right in front of Dean. Cas stroked Dean’s cheek, and Dean reluctantly raised his eyes. “I know you feel like you don’t deserve to be saved, to be loved, to have something good. But I want to show you that it is possible,” Cas brushed a runaway tear from Dean’s cheek. “I understand if too much has happened and you can’t trust again, but please, try, Dean?” Cas sounded and looked so genuine. The angel was saying everything Dean ever wanted to hear, but if he felt this way, then why had Cas been so distant since Dean’s rescue? Frustrated and conflicted with all the mixed messages, Dean just kept quiet. 

Cas smiled sadly and let his arm drop to his side. “I’m going to go talk with Sam… we’re working on–” Dean waved a hand and stopped him, feeling like ice cold water was poured down on him. He didn’t want to hear about what Cas was doing with Sam. It wasn’t fair. Cas wanted to stay with Sam, and Dean was, what, a fuck buddy on the side? Dean internally snarled, but he quickly realized he was being stupid. So what if Cas needed a real reason to stick around, as long as Dean got him too, right? No one in Dean’s life ever thought he was worth staying around for, so Dean shouldn’t get upset with the angel for feeling that way too. 

Or was Dean just being an idiot and misinterpreting things, something that has happened so many times in the past year or two? 

It all came down to the biggest and most important question. Could Dean open his heart and soul again and let Cas in – let them both in?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Triggers include vague references/memories of abuse. Dean's low self esteem and fear of abandonment. 
> 
> Note: Spoilers for the first story.
> 
> Dean attacked an angel after being provoked and Cas blamed Dean without finding out what happened. Dean was then attacked and mortally wounded but Cas and Sam both assumed Dean killed the angel for now reason.


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gets help from a surprising place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here we go, the last two chapters and the epilogue. Nothing really triggering in this chapter.

A few hours later, Dean walked down the hall and saw the familiar sight of Cas and Sam huddled together, talking in soft tones. Once again, Dean felt the unwanted, but unfortunately familiar, feeling of being an outsider. He didn’t know whether he should stay here at the bunker, whether the things Sam and he had talked about were true, ‘cause if Sam wanted them to be close and be brothers again, why was he always talking to Cas and not to him? And if Cas wanted things to be different between them, why was he turning to Sam for everything and leaving Dean out in the cold? After what happened in the gym, Dean wasn’t sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn’t this. 

Dean couldn’t take it anymore. He felt like the walls were closing in on him. He was so sick of his own thoughts, he needed to get out of here for a while. Dean grabbed his keys and left through the garage. For a few hours, he aimlessly drove around watching the Impala eat up the asphalt as his mind continued to torment him with memories, fears, and doubts. Should Dean stay, or should he leave? Did they even want him to stay? Was Oberon still a threat? And really, how long would it be before some other perverted monster caused trouble for Dean putting Cas and Sam in danger? How could he infect them with the poison that was Dean Winchester when he loved them? 

His mind was a swirling mess, and after doubling back and driving some more, Dean pulled into the next bar he came across, intending on getting as drunk as the Mark would allow him so he could forget even for a little bit about everything that had happened. 

Dean was sitting at the bar, nursing his sixth whiskey and still not even feeling a buzz, when the Mark pulsed violently. Dean couldn’t help the flinch and spike of fear when Crowley sat down next to him. 

“Relax, Squirrel. Just here for a drink,” Crowley said, waving at the bartender. “Something sweet,” he said. The bartender nodded. 

Dean was halfway off his chair, but with a sigh, he sat back down. There really wasn’t anyway for him to run from Crowley, and Dean had to admit, there was a small part of him that was a little glad to see Crowley again. 

Crowley got his drink and took a sip before turning toward Dean. “Good to have you back in this realm,” Crowley said. He gave Dean a once over with his eyes. “Are you okay?”

Dean frowned, wondering how Crowley knew what had happened. But then again, Crowley always seemed to know what was going on with Dean, even before their deal happened. 

Not wanting to think too much about Oberon, Dean didn’t respond at first. 

“Squirrel,” Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Are you okay?” He repeated.

Anger and rage rose in Dean. “Why do you care?” He snarled. How dare Crowley come in here and pretend to care about him after what he did, after he betrayed Dean just like everyone else? 

Crowley just stared at him, unimpressed. Dean’s anger fled just as quickly as it rose, and he wearily sighed. He knocked back his drink, pleasantly surprised to find it was Craig in his glass now. 

“No, not really,” Dean admitted softly. “But, you know,” Dean shrugged, raising the now full glass to his lips. “I’ll keep moving forward,” Dean grimaced slightly. He took a sip of his drink, savoring the flavor. He really missed this drink.

Crowley nodded and took a sip of his own drink. 

“Didn’t see that coming,” Crowley admitted with a sheepish expression. “I don’t think I would have ever come around to figuring out it was Oberon. At least, not in time.”

“Well, you know my life. Always full of surprises,” Dean tried to smirk, but it came across as a sad smile, and for a moment, he couldn’t hide the pain in his eyes.

Crowley saw, of course, and his face softened. “Is he dead?” 

Dean shook his head, his hand tightening on the glass. “No. Being punished, but still alive and still king,” the thought sent shivers of fear down Dean’s spine. He had to live with the ever constant fear that Oberon would still have a link with Dean, and could start invading his dreams again, or worse, use Dean to break through to this realm. 

Crowley nodded again, taking out the little umbrella from his drink and twirling it between his fingers, staring intently at Dean. Unable to help himself, Dean started to fidget, getting a little nervous.

“What do you want, Crowley?” Dean asked. “This can’t just be a social call.” 

“Why not?” Crowley asked. “I was wor–” Crowley cleared his throat. “I brought you your things. I put them in your car,” Crowley abruptly stood, and flicked at an imaginary piece of lint on his shoulder.

“Uh. Okay? Thanks,” Dean said with a frown, trying to figure out what Crowley had started to say.

“Yes, well…” Crowley waved his hand in dismissal. It struck Dean as strange, because Crowley was always very articulate, and now he seemed unable to have a simple conversation. It was unsettling. 

Crowley cleared his throat again. Dean tensed and his hand went and rested on the Blade when Crowley reached into his pocket. Crowley chuckled when he noticed, but he withdrew his hand holding an envelope and not a weapon, so Dean relaxed, moving his hand back to the bar. 

Crowley put the envelope on the bar and slid it over to Dean. 

“What’s this?” Dean asked. This whole interaction was surreal. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it. He thought the next time Crowley saw him, he would try to kill him and force Dean to kill the King in return, which despite everything, Dean really didn’t want to do.

“Just a little something that should help,” Crowley said. “Get that tattooed on your lovely body and it should keep him out of your dreams.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? Really?” Dean sputtered out, disbelieving.

Crowley rolled his eyes with a sigh. “Yes, Squirrel.”

“… Why would you help me?”

Crowley looked very uncomfortable for a few seconds, and then the familiar cocky smirk was back. “You know me. Just looking out for myself, making sure you don’t lose control to the Mark. I would think keeping that monster out of your head will help. Also why I brought your things back. So you have the tools to strengthen your band, if needed. 

“It’s still a tossup as to what will happen if you lose your humanity. You’d be under my control,” and for a second lust and possessiveness glinted in Crowley’s eyes making Dean shiver. But it was gone just as quickly. “Or you’d torture and kill me,” Crowley said, abruptly flippant. He moved his hands up and down, miming a scale. “So sue me if I want to prevent the latter from happening,” Crowley said in his usual cocky manner.

But Dean, knowing Crowley as well as he did – or figured he did – saw it as the weak attempt it was to explain away him helping Dean. And despite the brief moment of fear the look Crowley gave him had elicited, Dean now smiled.

“Thanks, Crowley,” he said genuinely. His heart gave a little tug of sadness. Despite everything that had gone down between them, Dean had really cared about Crowley. He didn’t just lose a lover, but a friend as well.

Crowley smoothed down his coat with his hands again. But then the familiar, arrogant look was back on the demon’s face. Crowley tapped the bar with his finger. “Just remember. You owe me one,” he said, but it wasn’t with much conviction. Dean nodded.

“Keep out of trouble, Squirrel,” Crowley said. He gave Dean a look he couldn’t interpret, and then Crowley snapped out.

Chuckling softly to himself, Dean shook his head in amazement. He didn’t know what Crowley helping him meant, and it was probably just what he said – him merely protecting himself, because if Dean ever lost control of the Mark, Crowley would quite possibly be one of the first monsters Dean would go after. But, Dean thought it was more than that. Maybe Crowley regretted what had happened, or maybe…

Dean scoffed to himself, quickly moving away from that train of thought. He sounded like a pining teenager with those thoughts.

Laughing outright at himself now, Dean opened the envelope and pulled out two pieces of paper. Frowning, he opened the first and saw a complicated looking Celtic sigil. Looking at the second piece of paper, Dean gasped in shock. It was the deed to the beach house, and it was in his name. Warmth spread through Dean. He actually loved that house, despite the bad memories it now carried, and he was touched. Confused and suspicious, but mostly touched. 

“Just looking out for yourself, huh, Crowley?” Dean muttered. He chose not to dwell on what this meant too much. Instead, he finished his drink. He was feeling a lot better now and was ready to leave the bar and to go back to the bunker. Running his fingers over the deed again, Dean carefully placed it in his pocket. Though still unsure where things stood in the bunker, Dean felt lighter knowing he had some place to call home. 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misunderstands are cleared up. Dean makes a decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go. Last chapter. Nothing really triggering in this chapter.
> 
> See end for notes and thoughts.

Dean got back to the bunker and felt himself practically jerked off his feet as hard arms surrounded him. The Mark pulsed and Dean flew immediately into fight response, but then smelled strawberry and recognized the flop of hair, and relaxed. Unfortunately, Dean relaxing just caused Sam to squeeze him tighter, forcing more air from his lungs.

“Sam, let go,” Dean gasped, squirming, already a little breathless, and more than confused as to what brought this on. Sam finally let go. Dean frowned when he looked at Sam. He had a relieved and grateful look on his face, but his eyes were red rimmed, and his hair was sticking up every which way from Sam undoubtedly running his hands through and tugging at it. He usually only did that when he was really nervous. 

“What’s u– _ oof _ .” Dean was enveloped in another hug bordering on too tight.What the fuck? Dean finally squirmed his way out of his angel’s arms. 

“What’s going on?” Dean asked. 

Sam looked at Dean, his mouth falling open. Did Dean seriously even have to ask that question?

Dean’s stomach clenched as the familiar look of anger crossed Sam’s face. 

“‘What’s going on?’” Sam repeated incredulously. “Where the fuck were you?” Sam asked with a snarl. Dean instinctively stepped back. 

Cas, noticing Dean’s retreat, grabbed Sam’s arm, keeping him in place. “Sam. Calm down,” Cas said, but Sam just growled and jerked his arm away from Cas, his gaze never leaving Dean’s face.

“Well?” Sam ground out, now crossing his arms in his agitation.

Dean didn’t appreciate Sam’s tone and having to explain himself, but he took a deep breath and tried to calm himself before he said something that would escalate things. Obviously, something happened to work Sam up so much, so Dean needed to keep cool and figure things out. Squeezing the Mark, which was pulsing and whispering to Dean about attacking, Dean looked up at Sam. 

“I just went for a drive and stopped for a beer or two,” Dean explained calmly. “I needed to clear my head,” Dean continued, but Sam’s expression, if anything, only got harder. 

“Why didn’t you answer your phone, Dean?” Sam spat out.

Dean’s eyes widened when he remembered his phone had died pretty much as soon as he left the bunker. He hadn’t wanted to turn around to go back and get the charger. 

“It died,” Dean said slowly, the “duh” left unspoken. Sam’s eyes burned brighter. Dean put his hands out in a  _ ‘calm down’ _ gesture. “I didn’t think you would even notice. let alone get upset over my leaving,” Dean stuck his chin out in defiance. He was starting to get angry himself at being treated like a teenager who came home past his curfew.

“You didn’t think…” Sam started to grind out between teeth clenched so hard Dean was surprised they didn’t snap. “What the fuck, Dean!” Sam shouted instead. “How many times have you been kidnapped in the last year and a half, and you didn’t think we would notice that you had disappeared again?”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline in surprise. Guilt started to creep through the anger Sam’s tone was bringing out of him. “Look, I’m sorry, but you guys were treating me like I’m practically invisible anyway, so. Yeah, I didn’t think you would notice. I hadn’t intended on being gone so long, but why do you even care?”

“Treating you like you’re invisible? What are you talking a–what?” Sam shouted. 

“Come on, Sam. You guys are sending mixed signals up the wahzoo. You treat me like I’m made of glass and pamper me, but at the same time, you stay as far away as you can. You say you want to be brothers again, but you don’t talk to me. You don’t stay…” Dean started to say “ _ stay with me, _ ” directing this comment to Cas, but then thankfully saved himself from the embarrassment of sounding like a needy bitch. 

Taking a breath, Dean looked directly into Sam’s eyes. “Do you even want me here?” Dean asked. Sam gaped at him, all the anger draining out of him so quickly, it was almost comical to watch. 

“' _ Do you even want me here? _ ” Sam ran the words over in his mind. The anger fled just as quickly as it rose up.  _ What the actual fuck? _ But then Sam looked at Dean,  _ really _ looked at him, and Dean had this confused and hopeful expression on his face that at the same time was full of fear. And right before Sam’s eyes, Dean’s walls started to go up to protect himself from whatever he thought Sam was going to say or do. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Sam muttered to himself, angry that he had lost control. He had just been so scared and worried when he and Cas had realized Dean was not in the bunker any longer, and the longer Dean stayed gone and wasn’t answering his phone, the more worried and scared Sam got. 

He thought after their talk that things were getting better, which is why they returned to the bunker. But there was still a stilted, uncomfortable feeling between them. Still too many things left unsaid. And Dean, god, every time Sam walked up to him, Dean would flinch and back away slightly, eyes widening as fear would flash across his face for a second. It took a few times of that happening before Sam was certain Dean didn’t even realize he was doing it, but it told Sam and Cas that they needed to continue to give Dean space. The same applied to the few times one of them would turn to Dean, the need to talk clearly written on their faces, and Dean would close down, hunch over, and avoid their eyes. It was heartbreaking. 

Now, listening to his brother ask if Sam even wanted him here, he realized what a colossal mistake they had made. Shit, Sam knew how Dean’s mind worked. He knew about his abandonment issues and his lack of even a crumb of self worth, so of course Dean would take them giving him the space they thought he needed as them not wanting him around. Their little huddles of conversation about how best to help Dean would of course be misconstrued by Dean as them plotting against him or figuring out how to get rid of him, especially after everything they had done to Dean after Abaddon. 

“Dean,” Sam said, the silence beginning to get uncomfortable. Dean was closing himself off more and more. Sam stepped closer to Dean and went to reach for his shoulder to give him a pat of reassurance, when again, the dreaded flinch and eye widening happened. Although, this time, Dean went further and raised his bent arm up to block the hit he thought was coming. 

“Oh, Dean, no,” Sam cried out. “I’m not–I’m not going to hurt you.” 

Dean, realizing what he had done, reddened in embarrassment. Looking at his arm like it belonged to someone else, he let it drop down to his side, his eyes getting wet. “I know, Sammy. I’m sorry. It’s just…” Dean started, but then stopped. He shook his head.

“It’s just what, Dean?” Sam asked softly, praying his brother would keep talking. “This isn’t the first time you’ve flinched when me, or even Cas has come close to you. But… especially when it’s me. It’s kinda why we’ve been giving you space.” Sam explained. Cas rumbled a sound of agreement. 

Dean jerked his head up, his eyes wide and questioning. “I have?” He asked, his voice sounding small. “That’s why…” Dean waved a hand at the two.

“Yeah, Dean. I get that it was a mistake,” Sam said. Thinking about how, again, he hurt his brother, tears started to fall. “I’m sorry, Dean,” Sam said, covering his face with his hands. 

Sam smiled through his tears as he felt the familiar warm arms of his brother hug him. “No, it’s my fault. I’m sorry, Sammy. Please, don’t be upset,” Dean said soothingly as he rubbed Sam’s back. Composing himself, Sam wiped his eyes and pulled back to look at his brother. 

Dean smiled when he saw Sam had calmed down. “I didn’t realize,” he started, letting Sam pull free. He shuffled his feet in discomfort. “I… it’s just. You…” Dean started and stopped. Taking a deep breath, he tried again. “You saw Oberon. You had to have noticed how similar you two are.” 

Sam’s eyes widened, because he hadn’t actually put those two pieces of the puzzle together, but– fuck, they were.

“I mean, he’s – you know – a lot taller and broader,” Dean was saying. “But your whole…” he waved a vague hand at Sam’s body, “and hair are similar, so I guess, for a second or two, I see him coming at me instead of you.” 

Dean watched Sam’s face crumble at the comment, tears springing to his eyes. Cas didn’t look any better with his sad, lost look.

_ Fuck _ ! He was still hurting them. Dean knew, right then and there, that he needed to make a decision. This limbo was only hurting his family, and rule number one for hunters; you’re either all in or all out, because straddling the fence got yourself and people killed. So, Dean needed to get off the fence, or he would keep hurting everyone. And Dean was so very sick of hurting the people he loved. And now, Dean had tears running down his face as he realized what he had to do, and how he had been hurting them. “I’m really sorry.” Dean said sincerely, as more tears fell down his cheeks.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Sam said when Dean looked away, guilt and disgust twisting his face. “It’s okay, Dean. It’s understandable. Really. We all made mistakes here, so let’s just try again?” Sam asked. His heart was beating loudly in his chest, afraid that Dean would decline because really how many times could a man just walk off being hurt before they just kept walking and never turned back? 

“I don’t know, Sam,” Dean murmured. “I…” Dean said. Guilt and anxiety practically flowed off of him.

“What is it, Dean?” Sam asked, even as dread coursed through him. 

“I’m sorry, but I just don’t know if I can trust you again,” Sam opened his mouth, but Dean put a hand out to stop him. “I know you’re sorry, both of you. And I know you want things to work out, but, I just... Sam, what happened between us, it destroyed me. I don’t want to go through that again. I  _ can’t _ go through that again. And… I guess I need to make a decision.” 

Sam was amazed at all the emotions Dean was freely sharing with them. But as the words sunk in, fear slithered down Sam’s spine. He couldn’t lose his brother again. He just couldn’t. But he also couldn’t hold him prisoner or force him like before either. So, Sam tried the last thing he had left in his arsenal. 

Dean felt like he was going to throw up with all the emotions brought up since returning to the bunker. The fact that he needed to make a decision, and make it now… They all just needed to talk to each other more, and a lot of this could have been avoided… but they still weren’t at that stage of comfort with each other yet, and Dean was scared that they never would be.

When he finished telling Sam how he wasn’t sure he could trust him again, he felt awful. He was still uncertain as to what to do. Dean looked around the bunker, as if trying to find answers, and then swung his gaze back to Sam’s. When he met his eyes, Dean gasped. 

Sam was pulling out all the stops, and the force of the puppiest of the most puppiest puppy eyes bore into him. 

Sam uttered two words.

“Dean. Please.”

Dean backed up a step. “Sam, that’s not fair,” he said. He turned to Cas for help and was met with a pretty fair replica of Sam’s look. No one could rival Sam when it came to puppy eyes, but damn if Cas was coming in as a close second. 

“What the fuck?” Dean muttered to himself. He slipped past the two and walked over to the couch, his mind racing.  _ Dean. Please. Dean. Please. DeanPleaseDeanpleaseDean– _

How many times had Sam uttered those words throughout their lives, and Dean just caved in? Whether it be for more food, a school trip, staying up late, avoiding a hunt, making the nightmares go away, or running as far away from Dean as he could. 

Dean grabbed his bag with one hand and then with the other, he fished out the envelope containing the deed to the beach house. Dean had to make a decision now. 

Did Dean stay and hope to not be betrayed and hurt again?

_ Dean. Please. _

Did he risk possibly being locked up because of some unknown reaction during a hunt in the future, or some other freaky power manifesting itself?

_ Dean. Please.  _

Did he continue to put Cas at odds with his family, making him choose between the two?

_ Dean. Please.  _

Did he stay and force them to deal with Dean’s nightmares of everything that happened?

_ Dean. Please.  _

Or did he leave and choose being saved from the pain of betrayal or abandonment by isolating himself – or worse, leave Sammy and Cas without backup, and not be around to help them if needed? 

_ Dean. Please. _

Crocodile tears made their way down Dean’s face as his emotions swelled and burst forth. Did he protect his heart or open it back up? 

_ Dean. _

_ Please. _

And, what the fuck, Dean was fighting a losing battle, because the big brother in him was lost the second Sam turned those eyes on him and uttered those words. Choked up and absolutely terrified he was doing the wrong thing, Dean walked out to the corridor. He tightened his hand on the envelope before shoving it back in his pocket, and turned toward the bunker’s bedrooms. Dean started walking with his brother and angel trailing behind him, still not saying anything, but when Dean opened the door and stepped through, Dean heard a small sob escape from Sam. 

Dean put his bag down on his bed and turned around. “Is this okay?” Dean asked hesitantly. Through the crying, though, Dean could see how happy Sam was. Cas, too, had a big, gummy smile on his face.

“Yeah. Um. Of course, Dean. So, you’re staying? Really?” Sam asked, even though it was pretty clear at this point. 

“Yeah, Sammy. I’m staying.” Dean felt all the air being forced from his body again as Sam gave him another painfully tight hug. “Sammy!” Dean squeaked. Sam hid his smile into Dean’s shoulder, but mercifully let him go. 

“Sorry. Well. Not really,” Sam said, a big smile still on his face. “I’ll just let you get settled. See you in the morning? I think I’ve got a line on a hunt – if it’s too soon, though, I get it. We can just relax, watch some movies, or go out, or go on the hunt, you know, whatever–”

“Sam,” Dean said, fondly cutting off Sam’s nervous rambling. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Okay,” Sam said again. He practically bounced out of the room. It felt so good to make his brother happy instead of causing him pain. The fact that Sam was happy because Dean was here – a year ago, Dean would have honestly said would never happen. But it was now, and it made him feel warm inside.

“I’ll see you in the morning, too,” Cas said, turning to leave. 

“Hey, wait a second, Cas,” Dean said quietly. His heart raced again, and his body twitched with nervous energy. Cas looked at Dean, his eyes piercing oceans of blue. Dean thought about how not talking had led to so many misunderstandings, so, what the fuck, he was all in at this point, so he might as well try. 

“Will, uh. Will you stay? Here with me?” Dean clarified. He rubbed his abruptly sweaty hands down his jeans at Cas continued silence. Dean closed his eyes for a moment, not wanting to see any rejection in Cas’ face, but they flew open when he found himself pushed against the wall. “What the…” The most perfect pink lips in the world crashed into his. Dean froze for a second before melting, and returned the kiss. 

Castiel watched as Dean made his decision after staring down at some kind of envelope. He carried it in one hand and his bag in the other.

When Sam and he had discovered that Dean was nowhere to be found, Castiel wanted to howl in rage and loss. He couldn’t lose Dean again. He knew they had many obstacles to overcome; his family coming in a close second to all the issues still needing to be dealt with, between he and Dean and, more importantly, dealing with all of the trauma Dean had been through, and his and Sam’s betrayal and hurt. 

Castiel prayed to his father that if Dean just came back, he would never let him leave again without hammering it into Dean’s thick skull just how much Castiel loved him and wanted him, and that all the horrors in Dean’s life didn’t matter to him. And even more importantly, he would do whatever it took to make Dean realize he was special, and beautiful, and amazing, instead of the broken, worthless, monster magnet Dean believed himself to be. 

Castiel’s grace flared with hope which quickly turned to excitement when Dean put the envelope back in his pocket and turned towards the bedrooms, and then finally walked into his old room. 

It took a lot of control for Castiel to not just launch himself at Dean while the brothers talked. Vowing to take things at Dean’s pace and force himself to accept whatever Dean decided, whether it be just friends or more, Castiel turned to leave too. 

Then Dean asked him to stay, and all control flew out the window. Castiel pushed Dean against the wall and kissed those perfect plump lips, gasping in pleasure when Dean started to kiss back. Later, when Dean was wrapped in his arms and sleeping, free of nightmares for the first time since he came back, Castiel whispered promises into Dean’s skin. He was never going hurt or leave Dean again. 

\-----------

Sam woke up early the next morning, having had the most restful sleep he’d had in awhile. After starting the coffee, Sam couldn’t control his nerves, and had to peek and make sure Dean was still here and back in his room. 

When Dean was gone yesterday, Sam was a nervous wreck. He was pretty sure things were much better between him and his brother, and he was pretty confident that he had gotten across how sorry he was and that he still loved his brother. But it still stood that a lot had happened. There was so much bad to make up for, Sam was really scared he would never get the chance to fix everything. 

When Dean came back, all those unspoken thoughts and feelings were finally brought to light, and he decided to make the move back into his room, Sam couldn’t hold back the sob of relief and happiness. He was thrilled at having his brother back where he belonged, and Sam didn’t feel even an ounce of guilt at having played upon Dean’s big brother instincts with his look and plea. 

Sam vowed once again to make everything up to Dean and to be more open minded about the changes Dean was still going through with the Mark. His lapse back into anger yesterday almost lost him his brother yet  _ again, _ and he would not make that same mistake. 

So, Sam opened Dean’s door to take a peek and just reassure himself that he was in fact still here. To Sam’s surprise, he saw Dean cuddled up against Castiel, one leg thrown over the angel’s, who was lying on his back, and Dean’s head nestled against Cas’ chest, Cas’ arms wrapped around Dean’s shoulders and waist. 

_ Fucking finally. _ Sam smiled wide, giving Cas a nod, before quietly closing the door. He was so happy for his brother and friend. 

Sam just prayed there wasn’t another person or thing out there that would try and break apart their newly reunited family again. But if there was, they would deal with it.

Together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well here you have it. I hope the relationships between Sam and Dean and Dean and Cas were resolved in a way everyone liked. I know a lot of people were not happy with how the first part ended. I hadn't intended on doing a sequel but now that its said and done I'm really glad I did. 
> 
> Thank you so very very much for leaving kudos and comments and for just sticking with my story. It wasn't as popular as the first but as long as even one person was able to get something from reading it is all that matters to me.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue - a plot revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See end for notes. 
> 
> Once again I would like to thank AnotherWorld3111 for being the best most awesome beta. 
> 
> And another huge thank you for reading. Please leave kudos or comments. I would love to hear what you thought about the ending and also this little reveal.

Jeff and Joe sat in their living room, still recovering from the beat down they received, while they bitched and complained to each other. They were fantasizing of ways to get to Dean and teach that boy a lesson he would never forget. Hell, if they managed to get a hold of him, it was very unlikely they would be letting him go. At least, not for a long time. They had years of coming up with new and creative ways to pleasure themselves at Dean’s expense, and this latest setback and humiliation was too much to ignore. 

Jeff ordered Joe to get him another beer. Joe responded to it with a, “Fuck you, you get the beers.” The two started to argue about who was more hurt, whose turn it was to get up, but they paused as the lights flickered. The TV screen switched to white noise, displaying static. They both froze as a man dressed in an impeccable black suit popped into the room. 

“Hello, boys.” 

Crowley surveyed the blood soaked floor and walls, the entrails and other body parts strewn across the room. He huffed in satisfaction. It had been a long time since Crowley had let his true demon self loose, and it felt  _ bloody friggin’ fantastic _ . 

Crowley wiped the blood and other stuff from his hands and took a seat. He snapped a bottle of Craig and two glasses. He filled them both and slid the other across the table as he turned toward the man who just arrived. 

“You’re too late.” Crowley smirked. 

“That’s regrettable.” Cain said sitting down and taking a sip. One eyebrow lifted in surprise at the smooth, slow burn from the Craig. 

“You’re more than welcome to pay them a visit in hell. I’ve got some very special torture sessions in mind for them.” Crowley said. He sipped his drink, settling back in his chair in a perfectly relaxed manner. 

Cain just grunted in agreement. The Knight and King of Hell sat there, sipping their drinks in silent camaraderie for a few minutes. Cain finally looked up at Crowley. “Was that whole charade really necessary? Why didn’t you just let him go?” Cain asked, genuinely curious.

“Pfft.” Crowley waved a hand. “That would have caused even more of an uprising than my treatment of him already did. I would have lost the throne.” Crowley growled at the thought. 

“Then why let him go at all? Despite what you might say, I know you cared, and so did he,” Cain said. He smirked a little at the thought of the demon king displaying such human emotions, and especially at the most dangerous hunter in the world having feelings for a demon as well. 

Crowley squirmed a bit. Then, sighing loudly, he finally responded. “He was so unhappy. And sad. So unbearably sad.” Crowley said softly. 

Memories of his time together with Dean flashed through Crowley’s mind. He was loath to admit it, but they were the best times of his entire existence. He would miss Dean terribly, but it was for the best. Crowley made the decision and set the plan in motion by sending Dean after Cain. He figured on the off chance that Dean did kill Cain, he would come up with another plan, but Dean did exactly what Crowley knew he would, and let Cain live. And getting Cain to publicly force Crowley to let Dean out of the deal was a piece of cake, the Knight more than willing to help Dean. It was a win-win. 

Crowley, while he still had some distenders to deal with, kept the respect of most of the demons under his command. And Dean… well, Dean got to be with his brother again, and more than likely, he’d end up with feathers. That was the one part of the whole picture that annoyed Crowley greatly, but at this point, Crowley would have done just about anything to not see that abyss of pain, loneliness, and sadness in Dean’s eyes anymore.

“You should keep in touch with him. I know Dean likes you.” Crowley said reluctantly. Despite the assistance from the Knight, it still rankled Crowley that Dean connected with Cain.

After a searching look at the knight, Crowley nodded at Cain and vanished.

Cain sat at the table a few more minutes, swirling the liquor in his class, his eyes alight with determination and pleasure. 

Cain would definitely be seeing more of Dean. They were connected now, and Cain truly excited about something for the first time in centuries...

Smiled. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise. Once again Crowley was manipulating things behind the scenes just like the first story, although this time it was for Dean's benefit. 
> 
> I couldn't help it. I'm still a sucker for Crowley and Dean and Crowley helping Dean out even without his knowledge fit with the story and I believe with canon from the show. 
> 
> Also, I couldn't just let those two off the hook. 
> 
> And Cain's smile. Well you never know.....


End file.
